^  PRINCETON,  N.  J.  ^ 

Presented    by   \  V"(S/5\C\(SY^.^     \  (9\^\ox~ 

RR  125  .T73  1874 

L^   T   T   1838-1922. 
Townsend,  L.  •  -^  *   ^,  ^^-^ 
The  arena  and  the  throne 


■  s. 

dif? 

JM4m...^IKa. 

--^^^' 

^^^' 

..-.^'K'ii-i"'-'''.  . 

.  ^^. 

RUPTIONS  AND   FLAMES 


tQ  40  BO  40         /DA        110,000. 


Seeja^e  236. 


THE 


Arena  and  the  Throne. 


L.  T.  TOWNSEND,  D.  I?., 

AUTHOR  OF  "credo,"   "  SWORD   AND   GARMENT,"   "gOD-MAN," 
ETC.,    ETC. 


BOSTON: 
LEE    AND    SHEPARD,   PUBLISHERS. 

New  York: 
lee,  shepard  and  dillingham. 

1874. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1873, 

By  lee  and   SHEPARD, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


Stereotyped  at  the  Boston  Stereotype  Foundry, 
No.  19  Spring  Lane. 


TO 

MY     STEP-FATHER, 
ALVIN  FLETCHER, 

WHOSE   KINDNESS    TO   THE    FATHERLESS    DESERVES 

A  LARGER   RETURN  THAN  WE   HAVE 

POWER    TO     GIVE, 

%\i%  f  olume 

IS  AFFECTIONATELY  DEDICATED. 


PREFACE 


The  subjects  herein  discussed  were  first  treated 
with  no  thought  of  pubHcation.  They  grew  into 
their  present  shape  while  the  author  was  engaged 
in  professional  duties  in  the  pulpit  and  lecture- 
room.  One  day  they  formed  a  voluntary  rela- 
tionship, looked  like  a  book,  were  presented  to 
the  publishers,  and  accepted. 

If  the  public  receives  this  volume  with  the 
same  favor  as  other  books  of  the  author  have 
been  received,  he  will  be  satisfied. 

(5) 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

I.  THE  FIELD 9 

II.  THE  DEFEAT 67 

in.  THE  TRIUMPH 115 

IV.  THE   KING 177 


APPENDIX. 

A.  Arguments    for    the    Plurality  of   Worlds. 

Chalmers.     Figuier.     Proctor 229 

B.  Distances    of    Astronomical    Bodies.      Fonte- 

nelle.     Mitchell 232 

C.  Mazsty-colored  Suns,   and  their  Effect.      Fi- 

guier  233 

D.  Solar  Eruptions.    Young 234 

E.  Physical  Constitution  of  the  Sun.     Kirchhoff. 

Thomson 237 

F.  Inhabitants  of  Jupiter.    Wolf.     Proctor.    .   .    .  239 

G.  A  Plea  for  Judas.     Storj.     De  Quincej 242 

H.      The    Tortures    and     Disclosures     of     Con- 
science.    Webster 250 

I.        The  Book  of  Job.     Wemyss 252 

7 


THE   FIELD 


O,  rack  me  not  to  such  extent; 

These  distances  belong  to  Thee; 
The  world's  too  little  for  Thy  tent, 

A  grave  too  big  for  me.     Herbert. 

Th J  breath  sustains  jon  fiery  dome ; 

But  man  is  most  thy  favored  home.     Sterling. 

Behold  this  midnight  splendor,  — worlds  on  worlds; 
Ten  thousand  add  and  twice  ten  thousand  more, 
Then  weigh  the  whole;  one  soul  outweighs  them  all, 
And  calls  the  seeming  vast  magnificence 
Of  unintelligent  creation  poor.     YouNG. 

Not  to  this  evanescent  speck  of  earth 
Poorly  confined;  the  radiant  tracts  on  high 
Are  our  exalted  range;  intent  to  gaze 
Creation  through,  and  from  that  full  complex 
Of  never-ending  wonders,  to  conceive 
Of  the  Sole  Being  right.     Thomson. 

O  rich  and  various  man  !  thou  palace  of  sight  and  sound, 
carrying  in  thy  senses  the  morning,  and  the  night,  and  the 
unfathomable  galaxy;  in  thy  brain  the  geometry  of  the  city 
of  God ;  in  th}^  heart  the  power  of  love  and  the  realms  of 
right  and  wrong.  An  individual  man  is  a  fruit  which  it  costs 
all  the  foregoing  ages  to  form  and  ripen.  He  is  strong,  not 
to  do,  but  to  live;  not  in  his  arms,  but  in  his  heart;  not  fts 
an  agent  but  as  a  fact.     Emerson. 

Man,  if  he  compares  himself  with  all  that  he  can  see,  is  at 
the  zenith  of  power;  but  if  he  compares  himself  with  all 
that  he  can  conceive,  he  is  at  the  nadir  of  weakness. 

COLTON. 

Up,  man  !  for  what  if  thou  with  beasts  hast  part. 
Since  in  the  body  framed  of  dust  thou  art.'' 
Yet  know  thyself  upon  the  other  side 
Higher  than  angels,  and  to  God  allied.     Trench. 
II 


Roll  on,  ye  stars!  exult  in  youthful  prime; 
Mark  with  bright  curves  the  printless  steps  of  Time : 
Near  and  more  near  your  beamy  cars  approach, 
And  lessening  orbs  on  lessening  orbs  encroach  : 
Flowers  of  the  sky!  ye,  too,  to  age  must  yield,  — 
Frail  as  your  silken  sisters  of  the  field ! 
Star  after  star  from  heaven's  high  arch  shall  rush, 
Suns  sink  on  suns,  and  systems  systems  crush, 
Headlong,  extinct,  to  one  dark  centre  fall, 
And  Death,  and  Night,  and  Chaos  mingle  all! 
Till  o'er  the  wreck,  emerging  from  the  storm, 
Immortal  Nature  lifts  her  changeful  form, 
Mounts  from  her  funeral  pyre  on  wings  of  flame, 
And  soars  and  shines,  another  and  the  same. 

Darwin. 

Ye  golden  lamps  of  heaven!  farewell. 

With  all  your  feeble  light; 
Farewell,  thou  ever-changing  moon. 

Pale  empress  of  the  night! 
And  thou,  refulgent  orb  of  day! 

In  brighter  flames  arraj-ed. 
My  soul,  that  springs  beyond  thy  sphere, 

No  more  demands  thine  aid. 
Ye  stars  are  but  the  shining  dust 

Of  my  divine  abode. 
The  pavement  of  those  heavenly  courts 

Where  I  shall  reign  with  God.     Doddridge. 

Learn  more  reverence;   not  for  rank  or  wealth  ;   that  needs 

no  learning; 
That   comes    quickly  —  quick   Jis   sin  does!    ay,    and  often 

leads  to  sin  ; 
But  for  Adam's  seed  —  man!     Trust  me,  'tis  a  clay  above 

your  scorning, 
With  God's   image   stamped    upon    it,   ami  God's  kindling 

breath  within.     Mrs.  BiiowNiNG. 
12 


THE    FIELD 


IS  the  entire  physical  universe  inhabited  or  in- 
habitable, are  questions  which  for  two  centuries 
have  received,  from  able  disputants,  both  affirmative 
and  negative  answers.  As  each  last  writer  has  closed 
his  argument,  he  seems  to  have  completely  silenced 
all  opponents ;  but  anon  is  himself  silenced  by  some 
new  comer  with  hands  full  of  additional  data. 

The  advocates  of  a  Plurality  of  Inhabited  Worlds 
find  in  Fontenelle  their  first  and  ablest  advocate.  His 
eftbrts  at  popularizing  the  discoveries  of  Newton  and 
the  calculations  of  Kepler,  which  had  just  then  intro- 
duced the  system  of  modern  astronomy,  were  success- 
ful. His  "Plurality  of  Worlds,"  published  in  i6S6, 
was  full  of  freshness,  intelligence,  and  grace,  and  has 
justly  won  much  praise  for  the  author. 

Twelve  years  later,  "  Cosmotheoros,"  by  Christian 
Huygens,  a  Dutchman,  —  a  work  which  is  far  less 
pleasing  in  style,  but  far  more  correct,  scientifically, 
than  Fontenelle,  —  appeared  in  Paris.  The  various 
other  treatises  that  immediately  follovv'ed  were  little 
else  than  imitations  of  Fontenelle  and  Huygens.  The 
controversy  between  Sir  David  Brewster,  supporting 
the  idea  of  inhabited  planets,  and  Mr.  Whewell,  con- 


IzJ  THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

tradictlng  it,  brought  out,  in  1S33,  all  the  new  scien- 
tific material  then  known,  which  in  any  way  bore 
upon  the  subject.  The  works  of  Richard  A.  Proctor 
have  given  us  the  products  of  the  more  recent  investi- 
gations, and  are  worthy  of  careful  study.* 

It  will  be  seen,  upon  review  of  the  different  argu- 
ments and  speculations  presented,  that,  from  first  to 
last,  and  on  both  sides,  there  has  been  but  slight  vari- 
ation in  the  line  of  reasoning  followed.  Arguments 
from  analogy  are  the  favorite  ones,  especially  for  those 
supporting  the  theory  of  a  plurality  of  inhabited  worlds. 
The  planets  resemble  the  earth,  the  fixed  stars  resem- 
ble the  sun  ;  therefore  it  is  concluded  the  planets  are 
inhabited,  and  the  fixed  stars  have  attending  inhabited 
planets. 

Another  argument  is  drawn  from  what  is  regarded 
as  the  consistency  of  things.  It  is  claimed  that  it  ill 
accords  with  the  goodness,  grandeur,  and  magnifi- 
cence of  the  Divine  Being,  to  people  this  earth  with 
intelligent  and  moral  beings,  leaving  tlie  surrounding 
worlds,  which  are  of  immensely  superior  proportions, 
silent  and  empty.  To  say  that  these  arguments,  as 
variously  developed  and  illustrated  from  year  to  year, 
have  but  little  weight,  and  that  they  have  been  easily 
answered,  would   be  saying  what   is  not  true.f 

No  one  can  go  forth  and  gaze  upon  the  illimitable 

*  M.  Flam  mar  Ion,  M.  Figuricr,  and  a  score  of  men  of  loss 
note,  have,  from  time  to  time,  written  upon  the  subject,  h  it 
have,  added  scarcely  anything  of  importance  bearing  upon 
that  side  of  the  argument  represented  by  the  amusing  and 
ingenious  '"Conversations"  of  Fonlct\elle. 

t  Appendix  A. 


THE    FIELD.  I5 

heavens  with  anything  like  due  appreciation  of  magni- 
tudes, without  being  well  nigh  overwhelmed  ;  in  such 
contemplation  one  feels  not  like  expanding  into  an 
angel,  but  like  shrinking  into  a  mote,  and  is  able  to 
find  for  the  emotions  excited  no  fitter  expression  than 
the  words  of  inspiration,  "  When  I  consider  thy  heav- 
ens, the  work  of  thy  fingers,  the  moon  and  the  stars 
which  thou  hast  ordained  ;  what  is  man,  that  thou  art 
mindful  of  him,  or  the  son  of  man,  that  thou  visitest 
him?" 

Replies  to  the  ever-repeated  forms  of  arguments  in 
support  of  the  plurality  of  inhabited  worlds  based 
upon  analogy  and  the  consistency  of  things,  have  been, 
from  age  to  age,  as  uniform  as  the  arguments  them- 
selves. Differences  between  the  earth  and  every 
known  astronomical  body  have  been  pointed  out,  of 
suiBcient  magnitude,  it  has  been  claimed,  to  destroy 
the  weight  of  the  argument  from  analogy  ;  while  the 
force  of  the  argument  from  consistency,  it  has  been 
reasoned,  depends  altogether  upon  the  relative  posi- 
tion of  humanity  in  the  universe.  If  man's  greatness 
is  not  measured  by  his  physical  properties,  or  if  to  be 
a  man  is  greater  than  to  be  a  planet,  which  certain 
scientists  seem  to  deny,  then  this  little  earth,  despite 
its  littleness,  may  consistently  have  a  place  in  the 
divine  mind  and  economy,  to  which  every  other 
planet  is   an   utter  stranger. 

If  the  majestic  workmanship  of  God  is  not  confined 
chiefly  to  Jupiter  and  his  moons,  nor  to  Saturn  and  his 
rings,  nor  to  the  magnificence  of  double  stars,  nor  to  the 
magnitudes  of  the  nebulae,  nor  to  any  of  these  temporal 
things,  but  to  ina7i^  then  it  is  enough,  and  the  consist- 


l6         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

ency  of  things  is  sufRciently  preserved,  even  if  all 
these  immense  astronomical  bodies  in  the  universe 
have  no  higher  or  other  use  save  to  regulate  for  man 
the  earth's  motions,  to  aid  him  in  his  otherwise  peril- 
ous navigations,  and  by  study  and  contemplation  to 
awaken  in  him  thoughts  of  the  skill,  power,  and 
grandeur  of  the  Infinite  One.  And  this  earth,  in  its 
sea,  soil,  and  atmosphere,  may  be  teeming  with  inhab- 
itants, visible  and  invisible  to  the  naked  eye,  simply  to 
show  God  to  man  as  in  an  ever-unfolding  revelation, 
which  more  and  more  fully  dawns  upon  him  at  every 
advancing  step  of  his  ceaseless  scientific  investigations 
and  discovery  ;  and  it  is  possible,  also,  that  not  a  thing 
of  life  is  to  be  found  upon  any  other  planet,  because 
they  can  there  serve  no  such  purpose.  In  fine,  it  is 
claimed  by  those  representing  this  side  of  the  ques- 
tion, that  in  precisely  the  proportion  that  man,  by  tel- 
escopic research  and  spectroscopic  analysis,  can  make 
out  the  physical  conditions  and  proportions  of  planet, 
star,  or  nebula,  in  that  proportion  is  the  end  of  their 
creation  completely  subserved  ;  it  is  enough,  accord- 
ing to  this,  which  we  denominate  the  theological  idea, 
that  man  can  see,  not  that  others  must  occupy,  the 
planets.  Consequently,  it  is  argued  that  tlie  eyes  of 
the  spiritual  universe  may  be  fixed  upon  this  earth 
with  an  intensity  of  interest  in  comparison  with  wliich 
tlie  entire  physical  imiverse  beside  may  pale  into  the 
merest  insignificance. 

In  addition  to  this,  the  theological  argument  against 
the  plurality  of  inhabited  worlds  rarely  fails  to  make 
its  ai)pearauce,  whenever  the  subject,  from  this  j:)()int 
of  view,  is  presented.      The  dilliculty,  as   set   tbrth    by 


THE    FIELD.  1*] 

this  argument,  relates  to  the  discrepancy  between  the 
theological  and  the  scientific  view  of  the  universe. 
According  to  theology,  this  earth,  in  point  of  interest, 
is  the  centre  of  the  physical  universe  ;  it  has  received 
a  visit  in  person  from  the  Creator ;  it  has  witnessed 
the  union  between  Deity  and  humanity ;  upon  it  over- 
whelming interests  are  represented  as  culminating ; 
humanity,  created  in  the  image  of  God,  springing  from 
one  federal  head,  is  working  out  its  probation  upon 
this  planet,  and  upon  no  other :  the  eyes  of  the  spirit- 
ual universe  are  accordingly,  and  almost  immovably, 
fixed  upon  it ;  and  the  hosts  of  heaven  are  ministering 
to  its  inhabitants.*  In  fine,  it  is  extremely  difficult  to 
overcome  the  objection  of  infidelity,  that  Christianity 
lavishes  altogether  too  great  attentions  upon  this  earth, 
if  it  is  only  one  of  many  similar  inhabited  worlds. 
The  single  point  of  the  divine  manifestation  in  the 
person  of  Jesus  is  to  most  minds  an  overwhelming 
objection,  while  such  a  visit  and  manifestation  are  per- 

*  Trench  well  states  the  case  :  "  Scripture  is  no  story  of 
the  material  universe.  A  single  chapter  is  sufficient  to  tell 
us  that  '  God  made  the  heavens  and  the  earth.'  Man  is  the 
central  figure  there  ;  or,  to  speak  more  truly,  the  only  figure  : 
all  which  is  there  besides  serves  but  as  a  background  for  him. 
He  is  not  one  part  of  the  furniture  of  this  planet,  not  the 
highest  merely  in  the  scale  of  its  creatures,  but  the  lord  of 
all;  sun.  moon,  and  stars,  and  all  the  visible  creation,  bor- 
rowing all  their  worth  and  their  significance  from  the  rela- 
tions where  they  stand  to  him.  Since  he  appears  therein  the 
ideal  worth  and  dignity  of  his  unfallen  condition,  and  even 
now,  when  only  a  broken  fragment  of  the  sceptre  with  which 
once  he  ruled  the  world  remains  in  his  hand,  such  he  is  com- 
manded to  regard  himself  still." 
2 


l8         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

fectly  consistent,  nay,  inevitably  demanded,  provided 
the  earth  is  unique ;  but  it  is  altogether  incompatible 
with  the  scientific  view  which  regards  this  as  a  paltry 
world  in  the  midst  of  immeasurable  other  worlds  of 
the  same  sort,  and  of  vastly  grander  proportions.  It 
is  a  pertinent  question,  which  will  never  fail  of  being 
asked.  How  is  it  possible  that  the  Divine  One  could 
consistently  leave  the  glories  of  his  empire  to  dwell 
upon  a  mote  —  a  mote  so  small  that  its  absence, 
with  that  of  all  its  inhabitants,  would  scarcely  be 
missed  from  the  physical  universe? 

We  are  aware  that  to  these  questions  various  expla- 
nations have  been  given.  This,  that,  and  the  other 
relief  from  the  difficulty  have  been  beautifully,  forci- 
bly, and  eloquently  presented  by  Dr.  Chalmers,  whom 
no  writer  has  surpassed  in  these  discussions  ;  but  still, 
after  the  exhilaration  of  his  sentences  is  exhausted,  we 
inevitably  feel  ourselves  falling  back  into  the  train  of 
customary  thought  and  ordinary  expression  ;  and  the 
reaction,  in  spite  of  ourselves,  arouses  suspicions  ad- 
verse to  revelation.  In  point  of  fact,  a  reconciliation 
between  the  theological  and  scientific  view  is  reached, 
if  reached  at  all,  through  unnatural  distortions.  We 
weep  and  fear ;  the  conviction  stares  us  full  in  the 
face  that  the  fundamental  idea  of  Christianity  is,  that 
every  man,  of  the  lowest  cast,  and  outcast  even,  is 
of  more  value  than  all  the  physical  worlds  flying  in 
majesty  and  grandeur  above  us,  together  with  every- 
thing they  contain  ;  and  also,  that  intensity  of  interest 
throughout  the  spiritual  universe  is  centred  upon  tliis 
earth,  Ijccausc  it  alone  is  the  home  of  a  class  of  bcinjjjs 
the  like  of  which  iiuwhcre  else  exists  —  beings   who 


THE    FIELD.  1 9 

are  in  the  line  of  promotion  to  the  highest  positions 
bestowed  upon  any  created  intelHgences.  Whereas, 
on  the  other  hand,  as  ahxady  pointed  out,  if  all  these 
regions  of  space  are  full  of  inhabitable  and  inhabited 
worlds,  then  this  little  earth  on  which  we  dwell,  with 
all  its  inhabitants,  is,  as  Whewell  forcibly  expresses  it, 
"  afinihilated  by  the  magnitudes  about  us."  * 

In  the  present  review  of  the  general  question  before 
us  we  are  not  to  ask,  what  can  God  do,  but  what  has 
he  done,  and  what  are  the  facts  which  can  be  deduced 
in  support  of  given  speculations.  This  limitation 
will,  we  think,  not  only  be  allowed,  but  demanded,  by 
every  intelligent  reader ;  for  otherwise  there  would  be 
no  limit  to  the  possibilities  that  may  be  imposed  upon 
us  by  fertile  imaginations.  We  may  imagine  civil- 
ized and  religious  inhabitants  upon  the  diminutive 
planetoids,  upon  meteoric  stones,  and  upon  the  wild 
and  bare  volcanic  peaks  of  the  moon ;  we  may  sup- 
pose that  the  entire  celestial  ether  is  inhabited  by  re- 
sponsible beings ;  we  may  say,  if  disposed,  that  there 
are  a  million  intelligences  like  ourselves  holding  wise 
converse  upon  the  rich  tapestry  of  a  sunset-cloud  ;  w^e 
may  assert,  with  Giordano  and  Bruno,  that  the  interior 
of  the  earth  is  inhabited ;  that  the  fabled  Ariel  and 
sylphs  people  the  air,  that  naiads  and  water-sprites 
people  the  seas,  that  gnomes  inhabit  the  darkness,  and 
salamanders  the  fire.  But  clearly  enough  all  such 
imaginary  suppositions  are  to  be  ruled  out  of  the  pres- 
ent discussion.  To  make  clear  our  position  in  a  word, 
it  is  this :  inasmuch  as  science  proves  that  the  astro- 

♦  Appendix  B. 


20         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

nomical  bodies  are  uninhabitable  by  physical  and 
moral  agents  sometliing  like  ourselves,  by  exactly  so 
much  may  our  confidence  be  re-established  in  the 
direct  biblical  representations,  but  shaken  respecting 
a  plurality  of  inhabited  worlds. 

It  hardly  need  be  stated  that  facts  bearing  upon 
these  matters  are  at  present  numerous  and  reliable  to 
an  extent  hardly  dreamed  of  until  of  late.  The  j^hys- 
ical  sciences  are  now  systematized  as  never  before,  and 
within  the  past  few  years  have  been  making  almost 
incredible  advances.  Political  economy  has  so  ar- 
ranged avocations  in  harmony  with  the  principles  of 
division  of  labor,  that  every  man  is  allowed  and  asked 
to  give  exclusive  attention  to  his  favorite  field  of  inves- 
tigation. The  astronomer  may  study  the  heavens, 
while  the  manufacturer  clothes  him,  and  the  agri- 
culturist feeds  him,  and  the  merchant  holds  for  ex- 
change his  products  and  needed  supplies,  while  the 
mechanic  builds  his  observatory,  the  machinist  manu- 
factures his  wonderful  instruments  of  observation,  and 
while  the  mathematician  furnishes  his  no  less  won- 
derful tables  of  calculation  ;  and  each  in  turn  receives 
an  almanac  in  compensation  thereof.  With  such  facil- 
ities at  hand,  w^ith  all  the  modern  improvements  of 
art  and  invention,  it  would  be  marvellous  if  there  were 
not  occasion  to  change  some  of  the  hypotheses  that 
were  started  years  ago  b}'-  such  men  as  Copernicus, 
Galileo,  and  Kepler,  and  ably  defended  by  Chalmers 
and  his  followers. 

It  is  also  too  well  known  hardly  to  allow  mention, 
tliat  tlie  physical  condition  of  the  heavenly  bodies  was 
formerly  ascertained  solely  by  means  of  astronomical 


THE   FIELD.  21 

and  mathematical  calculations.  Their  weight,  dis- 
tances, and  relative  density  were  estimated,  very  early, 
with  surprising  approximation.  But  more  recently, 
estimates  have  been  reduced  to  a  nicety  and  precision 
almost  incredible.  The  science  of  chemistry,  as  well 
as  the  higher  mathematics,  has  come  to  the  aid  of 
those  engaged  upon  these  matters.  The  chemist  and 
the  astronomer  have  harmoniously  joined  their  forces. 
An  astronomical  observatory  has  now  appended  to  it 
a  stock  of  appliances  such  as  hitherto  was  only  to  be 
found  in  the  chemical  laboratory.  A  devoted  corps 
of  volunteers  of  all  nations  have  directed  their  tele- 
scopic and  spectroscopic  artillery  to  every  region  of 
the  universe.  The  sun,  the  spots  on  his  surface,  the 
corona,  and  the  red  and  yellow  prominences  seen 
round  him  during  total  eclipses,  the  moon,  the  plan- 
ets, comets,  auroras,  nebulse,  white  stars,  yellow  stars, 
red  stars,  variable  and  temporary  stars,  each  tested 
by  the  prism,  is  compelled  to  show  its  distinguishing 
prismatic  colors.  Rarely  before  in  the  history  of 
science  has  enthusiastic  perseverance,  directed  by  pen- 
etrative genius,  produced  within  ten  years  so  brilliant 
a  succession  of  discoveries.  It  is  not  merely  the  chem- 
istry of  sun  and  stars  that  is  subjected  to  analysis  by 
the  spectroscope ;  the  laws  of  their  being  are  now 
subjects  of  direct  investigation  ;  and  already  we  have 
glimpses  of  their  evolutional  history  through  the  stu- 
pendous power  of  this  most  subtile  and  delicate  test : 
thus  solar  and  stellar  chemistry  have  been  succeeded 
by  solar  and  stellar  physiology.* 

*  Sir  William   Thomson. 


22         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

So  admirably  is  this  work  clone,  that  the  light  from 
every  visible  orb  that  hangs  in  or  flashes  over  the 
sky,  even  the  most  distant,  is  taken  into  the  labora- 
tory, is  analyzed,  and  sifted,  and  made  to  report  as  to 
what  is  the  physical  and  chemical  construction  and 
composition  of  those  orbs :  their  relative  weight  is 
also  thereby  estimated,  and  their  moments  measured 
with  approximate  accuracy ;  spectrum  analysis  may 
yet  correct  the  most  exact  mathematical  calcula- 
tions hitherto  received.*     This  union  of  optics,  math- 

*  The  science  of  spectrum  analj'-sis  has  so  far  modified  the 
whole  sj'stem  of  astronomy  that  we  may  state  in  a  word  the 
principles  upon  which  it  is  applied.  It  is  ascertained  upon 
experiment  that  any  solid,  liquid,  or  gas,  when  heated  until 
luminous,  giv^es  off  a  light  peculiar  to  itself.  Upon  the  spec- 
trum each  peculiar  light  finds  its  exact  place,  and  shows  its 
peculiar  characteristics,  by  means  of  the  lines  it  assumes 
thereon ;  so  that  by  the  spectra  of  any  light  known,  be  it 
moon-light,  planet-light,  sun-light,  gas-light,  or  the  light 
from  any  other  substance,  its  chemical  character  can  be  accu- 
rately detected.  One  can  also,  thereby,  trace  resemblances 
and  dissimilarities  between  our  earth  and  the  other  heavenly 
bodies,  and  thus  ascertain,  at  once,  whether  or  not  they  are 
inhabitable.  This  science  of  spectrum  analysis,  it  should  be 
noticed,  is  not  recent  in  all  its  particulars.  It  has  had  an 
historic  growth. 

The  prismatic  analysis  of  light  was  first  discovered  by 
Newton,  and  was  estimated  by  himself  as  being  "  the  oddest, 
if  not  the  most  considerable,  detection  which  hath  hitherto 
been  made  in  the  operations  of  nature."  But  the  obtaining 
of  a  pure  spectrum,  with  the  discovery  of  the  dark  lines, 
was  reserved  for  the  nineteenth  century.  Our  fundamental 
knowledge  of  the  dark  lines  is  due  solely  to  P'raunhofer. 
Wolhiston  saw  them,  but  did  not  discover  them.  Brewster 
labored   long  and   well  to  perfect  the  prismatic  analysis  of 


THE    FIELD.  23 

ematics,  and  chemistry  has  relieved  the  science  of 
modern  astronomy  of  many  of  its  former  uncertain- 
ties, and  has  thrown  over  it  an  imposing  splendor 
that  renders  it  one  of  the  most  inspiring  and  enno- 
bling, as  well  as  attractive  fields  of  investigation.  As- 
tronomical science  is  no  longer  in  its  cradle,  but  has 
shown  its  face  in  public,  and  left  off  its  childish  prat- 
tle. "  Formerly  one  man  observed  the  stars  for  all 
Christendom,  and  the  rest  of  the  world  observed  Jiiin. 
But  now,  up  and  down  Europe  and  North  America, 
from  the  deep  blue  of  Italian  skies  to  the  cold,  frosty 
atmospheres  of  St.  Petersburg  and  Glasgow,  from  the 
clear  sky  of  New  England  to  the  salubrious  atmos- 
phere of  California,  the  stars  are  conscious  of  being 

sun-light;  he  laid  important  foundations  for  a  grand  super- 
structure, which  he  scarcely  lived  to  see.  Piazzi  Smyth,  by 
spectroscopic  observation  performed  on  the  Peak  of  Tene- 
riffe,  added  greatly  to  our  knowledge  of  the  dark  lines  pro- 
duced in  the  solar  spectrum  bv  the  absorption  of  our  own 
atmosphere.  The  prism  became  an  instrument  for  chemical 
qualitative  analysis  in  the  hands  of  Fox  Talbot  and  Her- 
schel.  But  the  application  of  this  test  to  solar  and  stellar 
chemistry  had  never  been  suggested,  either  directly  or  indi- 
rectly, by  any  other  naturalist,  when  Stokes  taught  it  in 
Cambridge,  at  some  time  prior  to  the  summer  of  1852. 

To  the  toil  of  Kirchhoff  and  of  Angstrom  we  owe  large- 
s(?n.le  maps  of  the  solar  spectrum.  These  maps  now  consti- 
tute the  standards  of  reference  for  all  workers  in  the  field. 
Plucker  and  Hittorf  made  the  important  discovery  of  changes 
in  the  spectra  of  ignited  gases  produced  by  changes  in  the 
physical  condition  of  the  gas.  Lockyer  and  Falkland  have 
furnished  us  with  the  effects  of  varied  pressure  upon  the 
quality  of  light  emitted  by  glowing  gases. 


24         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

everywhere  watched,  and  can  no  longer  hide  from  us 
their  mysteries."  * 

Seventy  years  ago  Dr.  Chahners  conjectured  that 
the  time  might  come  when  astronomical  instruments 
would  arrive  at  such  perfection  as  to  afford  an  ob- 
server an  inside  view  of  the  planets.  He  had  no  mis- 
giving, apparently,  should  that  time  arrive,  that  we 
would  sec  men  like  ourselves,  "  with  as  close  resem- 
blance," —  to  employ  an  expression  of  some  early 
astronomer,  —  *' as  tliat  existing  between  one  egg  and 
another."  But  these  rapid  advances,  by  means  of  new 
appliances,  which  have  brought  under  our  range  new 
and*  hitherto  unexplained  phenomena,  report  less  and 
less  in  favor  of  the  scientific,  but  more  and  more  in 
support  of  the  theological  idea ;  so  much  so  that  no 
well-informed  person  will  now  venture  to  repeat  the 
assertions  of  former  w^riters  as  to  the  general  inhab- 
itablcness  of  the  physical  universe.f 

Comets  and  Zodiacal  Lights.\  —  Who   has  seen 

*  De  Qj-iincey. 

t  Perhaps  our  spu-itualistic  friends  desire  us  to  make  an 
exception  in  case  of  a  so-vvcll-informed  person  as  Mr.  An- 
drew Jackson  Davis.  He  seems  to  have  more  than  realized, 
it  is  true,  the  most  sanguine  expectations  of  the  great 
Scotch  divine;  for  he  has  seen  with  the  naked  eye  (if  we  be- 
lieve his  claims)  all  those  things  which  Dr.  Chalmers  desired 
to  see  but  could  not,  or,  if  possible,  more  incredible  still,  he 
has  visited  our  planetary  neighbors  in  person,  and  has  made 
their  intimate  acquaintance.  A  spiritualistic  friend  told  us 
the  other  day  that  science  could  never  go  beyond  spiritual 
clairvoyance,  and  that,  therefore,  all  views  at  variance  with 
those  of  Mr.  Davis  should  be  abandoned. 

X  Of  zodiacal  light  we  shall  say  not  much,  since  so  little  is 


THE    FIELD.  2^ 

one  of  those  bodies  which  we  call  comets,  which  at 
times  spreads  out  its  silvery  veil  over  a  third  part 
of  the  visible  heavens,  without  being  filled  with  de- 
light or  wonder?  How  startling  the  journeys  of  these 
bodies !  From  cold,  ice-bound  regions  beyond  the 
planetary  system  they  come,  onward  towards  the  sun 
they  go,  into  its  very  face  and  eyes  they  fly 5  until  he 
glares  upon  them  with  twenty-five  thousand  six  hun- 
dred times  fiercer  heat  than  that  with  which  a  ver- 
tical sun  at  midday  scorches  our  equator,  and  then 
away  they  return  to  another  baptism  in  regions  of 
eternal  frost. 

The  matter  of  which  comets  are  composed  was 
long  since  known  to  be  of  the  least  appreciable  spe- 
cific gravity.  The  comet  of  1847,  known  as  Miss 
Mitchel's,  passed  directly  over  a  star  of  the  fifth  mag- 
nitude ;  and  yet  its  light,  which  would  have  been 
entirely  obliterated  by  a  moderate  fog  extending  only 
a  few  yards  from  the  earth,  appeared  in  no  way  en- 
feebled. "  I  have  examined,"  says  General  Mitchel, 
'"  the  most  minute  telescopic  stars,  and  have  received 
their  light  undimmed,  though  it  had  penetrated  thou- 
sands and  tens  of  thousands  of  miles  of  this  cometary 
matter."  The  evidence  is  conclusive  that  the  comet 
is  only  vapor,  and  almost  perfectly  transparent.  The 
most  fleecy  and  gossamer  clouds  that  rest  in  the  sky,  or 
are  driven  hitlier  and  thither  by  the  idlest  breath  of 
a  fitful  summer  breeze,  is  a  hundred  fold  more  sub- 
really  known  respecting  it.  It  is,  doubtless,  ar  solar  append- 
age, perhaps  of  the  nature  of  comets,  or  of  meteors.  Certain- 
ly, judging  from  the  present  reports  of  scientific  investigation, 
it  is  something  not  verv  distinct  from  one  or  the  other. 


26         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

stantial  than  the  comet.  It  is  claimed  by  those  who 
have  carefLilly  investigated  these  subjects,  that  the 
substance  of  comets  is  so  attenuated  that  if  their  di- 
ameter were  a  hundred  thousand  miles,  having  a  pro- 
portionate length,  they  would  not  contain  so  much 
matter  as  would  be  required  to  fill  an  ordinary-sized 
gentleman's  hat.  The  convulsions  feared  should  a 
comet  some  time  strike  the  earth  are  altogether  beyond 
the  possibility  of  taking  place.  These  phosphorescent, 
rather  fluorescent,  bodies  are  found  to  be  composed 
largely  of  pure  vapor  of  carbon.* 

Here,  then,  are  certain  bodies  of  vast  proportions, 
the  largest  objects  in  the  solar  system,  of  magnificent 
appearance,  self-luminous,  and  also  to  a  certain  extent 
reflective,  which  are  of  such  a  chnracter  as  to  so  far 
preclude  the  idea  of  inhabitants  that  not  an  intelligent 
and  informed  advocate  of  such  an  idea  can,  first  or 
last,  be  found.  Now,  may  we  not  apply  the  same 
reasoning  to  comets  which  is  applied  to  other  astro- 
nomical bodies.^  Have  we  not  a  right  to  ask.  Why 
were  comets  created,  unless  they  are  inhabited  ? 
Why  did  God  make  these  grand  displays  of  physical 
phenomena,  sending  them  flying  through  the  universe 
in  exact  orbits  and  with  exact  periods,  unless  they 
somehow  bear  upon  their  vapory  and  gas-lit  surface 
intelligent    and    moral    beings?      How  can  an  astio- 

*  The  lij^ht  of  Brorsen's  comet  has  been  subjected  to  crit- 
ical spectrum  analysis,  and  found  to  be  nearly  identical  with 
that  of  highly  heated  vapor  of  carbon.  The  composition  of 
this  comet  (and  it  is  doubtless  true  of  all  others),  by  chemical 
analysis,  discloses  also  an  in;^redient  which  docs  not  coincide 
with  anything  now  known  upon  the  earth. 


THE    FIELD.  2^ 

nomical  body  be  so  charming,  grand,  and  vast  in  its 
proportions  if  it  is  not  peopled  with  inteUigences? 
And  if  not  thus  peopled,  is  it  not  evidence  that  there 
is  a  glaring  inconsistency  betw^een  the  divine  wisdom, 
skill,  and  benevolence,  on  the  one  hand,  and  such  a 
needless  expenditure  of  creative  energy  on  the  other? 
Such  are  the  facts :  let  each  answer  for  himself. 

Shooting  Stars^  Meteors^  a?zd  Aerolites.  —  These 
names  represent  bodies  of  the  same  general  physical 
character ;  *  the  difference  between  them  is  one  of 
circumstance  only.  The  shooting  star  disappears 
when  far  up  the  sky  ;  the  meteor  comes  near  to  us, 
but  disappears,  sometimes  with  loud  reports,  before 
reaching  the  earth,  while  the  aerolite  reaches  the  earth 
unconsumed.  Some  of  these  displays,  especially  the 
October  and  November  meteoric  showers,  are  grand 
and  imposing,  and  numberless  eyes  watch  them  from 
nightfall  until  dawn-light.  These  bodies  belong  to 
systems  which  revolve  about  the  sun  with  the  regu- 
larity of  planets.  They  are  as  independent  in  their 
creation  as  Jupiter  or  the  sun ;  they  are  not  mere 
fuel  for  the  sun  to  feed  upon,  as  certain  astronomers 
have  conjectured  ;  they  retard,  rather  than  increase,  his 
flames ;  they  are  not,  as  Figuier  supposes,  mere  mes- 

*  Aerolites  bring  us,  of  known  substances,  oxide  of  iron, 
oxides  of  nickel,  of  cobalt,  and  of  manganese,  magnesia, 
lime,  silica,  copper,  and  sulphur,  and  have  the  appearance 
of  having  been  changed  to  a  solid  from  a  liquid  state  under 
a  dense  atmosphere  of  hj'drogen  gas.  Meteors  are  dissipat- 
ed in  their  passage  through  the  air,  but  the  unconsumed  part 
sometimes  falls  to  the  earth  in  the  form  of  dust  of  jellow 
chloride  of  iron.     Cometarj  meteors  we  need  not  discuss. 


28  THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

sengcrs  sent  to  us  across  space  from  other  worlds, 
to  tell  us  of  the  composition  of  tlicir  soil ;  nor,  as  Sir 
William  Thomson  suggests,  are  they  express  trains 
from  other  worlds  to  ours,  freighted  with  the  germs  of 
life  and  seeds  of  vegetation.  These  interesting  vis- 
itants come  rather,  without  reasonable  doubt,  from 
trains  of  small  planets,  little  asteroids,  which  circle 
around  the  sun,  forming  diflerent  systems,  and  con- 
stituting belts  analogous  to  Saturn's  rings;  and  the 
reason  for  the  comparatively  large  number  of  mete- 
ors which  we  observe  annually  about  the  14th  of  No- 
vember is,  that  at  that  time  the  earth's  orbit  cuts 
through  some  meteoric  belt.  We  have  probably  not 
yet  passed  through  the  very  nucleus,  or  densest  part ; 
but  thirteen  times,  in  Octobers  and  Novembers,  from 
October  13,  A.  D.  903,  to  November  14,  1866,  inclu- 
clusive  (this  last  time  having  been  correctly  predicted 
by  Professor  Newton,  of  Yale  College),  we  have,  by 
actual  observation,  passed  through  a  part  of  the  belt 
greatly  denser  than  the  average.  When  in  their  revo- 
lution these  bodies  encounter  the  earth's  atmosphere, 
they  are  ignited  by  friction,  and  give  us  safe  and  inex- 
pensive, but  magnificent  displays  of  fireworks.  The 
aggregate  number  of  the  meteoric  systems  is  beyond 
calculation,  and  the  number  of  meteors  composing 
each  system   is  next  to  infinite.* 

*  Professor  Newton  calculates,  upon  reliable  data,  that,  on 
an  average,  in  the  course  of  a  single  day  7.500.000  meteors, 
large  enough  to  be  visible  to  the  naked  eye,  are  consumed  in 
the  earth's  atmosphere,  and  about  400,000,000  meteors,  visi- 
ble through  a  telescope  of  moderate  power,  arc  thus  con- 
sumed. Fifty  points  of  radiation,  at  least,  have  been  already 
discovered. 


THE    FIELD. 


29 


Though  knowing  Httle  of  their  extent  and  number, 
they  tell  us  some  things  of  importance.  They  report, 
as  does  everything  else  in  the  universe,  how  lavish 
is  the  Creator  in  his  expenditures  ;  not  merely  bread 
enough,  but  bread  to  spare,  is  the  law  of  his  kingdom 
—  a  fact  which  is  loaded  with  analogies  against  the 
theory  of  a  plurality  of  inhabited  worlds. 

The  Nebulce  constitute  a  class  of  astronomical 
bodies  concerning  which  there  has  been,  perhaps, 
more  discussion  than  respecting  any  others.  These 
starry  clusters,  or  patches  of  "  starry  powder,"  so 
called,  seem  to  be  of  endless  extent  ;  they  rise  one 
above  another,  and  appear  without  limit  to  stretch 
away  into  God's  immensity.  Two  theories,  radically 
differing  from  one  another,  cover  the  various  specula- 
tions presented.  The  first  and  oldest  supposes  them 
to  be  stellar  clusters.  Such  a  conclusion  is  natural, 
for  at  first  sight  they  appear  to  be  stars  seen  through 
mist.  Powerful  telescopes  have  been  able  to  resolve 
some  of  them  into  distinct  points  of  light;  supposi- 
tions were  rife  that  with  more  powerful  instruments 
of  observation  all  the  nebulous  clusters  could  be  thus 
resolved.  It  was  further  argued  that  each  cluster  con- 
stitutes a  distinct  stellar  system.  In  harmony  with 
this  supposition,  our  sun  is  to  be  looked  upon  as  an 
individual  star,  forming  only  a  single  unit  in  a  cluster 
or  mass  of  many  millions  of  other  similar  stars,  —  a 
mere  fragment  in  the  midst  of  a  universe  of  similar 
solar  systems,  represented  as  everywhere  teeming  with 
human  inhabitants,  subject  to  the  same  thouglits, 
experiences,  and  developments  as  characterize  our- 
selves. 


30         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

The  second,  known  as  the  Laplace  theory,  regards 
the  nebuhc  as  a  luminous  fluid,  diffused  through  the 
universe,  being  now  in  a  formative  state,  becoming,  or 
soon  to  become,  distinct  stellar  systems,  like  our  own. 
It  was  natural  for  sceptical  physicists,  upon  embracing 
this  idea,  to  conclude  that  by  natural  processes,  and 
without  the  intervention  of  a  Creator,  these  nebulae 
are  to  become  distinct  systems,  then  completed  worlds, 
which  in  time  have  the  inherent  power  of  producing 
plants,  and  brutes,  and  man. 

The  first  of  these  theories  is  now  generally  set  aside. 
Among  other  things  there  has  been  of  late  a  radical 
change  as  to  the  supposed  distances  of  the  nebulas. 
Professor  Roscoe  informs  us  that  the  opinion  that 
their  remoteness  is  what  makes  it  so  difficult  to  re- 
solve them  can  no  longer  be  upheld,  and  that  their 
nebulous  appearance  is  not  on  account  of  their  great 
distance,  but  because  of  the  highly  attenuated  con- 
dition of  the  substances   composing  them.* 

*  It  is  also  the  opinion  of  Sir  John  Ilcrschel,  supported  by 
Lord  Rosse,  that  the  nebidae,  as  a  class  of  objects,  are  not 
more  distant  than  the  nearest  fixed  stars.  Said  David  Gill, 
in  an  address  before  the  Edinburgh  meeting  of  the  British 
Association  (1S71),  "  From  observations  extending  over 
eleven  months,  I  concluded  that  the  planetary  nebula  No.  37, 
in  Merschel's  4th  catalogue,  possessed  a  very  measurable 
parallax,  and  a  considerable  proper  motion.  Should  further 
measures  confirm  this  result,  the  true  inference  to  be  drawn 
is,  that  some  of  the  planetary  nebulcc,  at  least,  are  nearer  to  us 
than  the  fixed  stars,  and  probably  perform  an  entirely  distinct 
part  in  the  economy  of  nature."  "There  are  vast  numbers 
of  the  nebuhe,"  says  Lord  Rosse,  "much  too  faint  to  be 
sketched  or   measured   with   any  prospect  of  advantage,  the 


THE    FIELD.  "  3 1 

But  in  addition  to  the  more  accurate  telescopic  ex- 
aminations we  have  also  the  report  of  spectrum  anal- 
ysis, which  forever  sets  at  rest  the  question  of  the 
physical  character  of  the  nebulae.  They  can  no  lon- 
ger, in  the  light  of  this  science,  to  say  the  least,  be 
represented  as  suns  like  ours.  When  Mr.  Huggins 
brought  the  image  of  the  nebulce  upon  the  slit  of  his 
spectroscope,  he  found  that  he  no  longer  had  to  do 
with  a   class  of  bodies  of  the  nature  even  of  stars !  * 

most  powerful  instruments  we  possess  showing  in  them 
nothing  of  an  organized  structure,  but  merely  a  confused 
mass  of  nebulosity  of  varying  brightness."  "  I  believe," 
says  Proctor,  "  that  future  researches  will  prove,  not  only 
that  the  Milky  Way,  as  a  whole,  is  much  nearer  than  we 
have  been  imagining,  but  that  portions  of  it  are  absolutely 
nearer  to  us  than  the  brightest  of  the  single  stars."  The 
researches  of  Huggins,  Secchi,  and  Wullner,  seem  to  indi- 
cate that  the  temperature  of  the  nebulse  is  extremely  high; 
but  those  of  Zollner,  Frankland,  and  Lockyer  indicate  a 
comparatively  low  temperature.  It  is  claimed  by  others  that 
a  moderate  process  of  condensation  would  develop,  from  cool 
matter,  as  great  an  amount  of  heat  as  nebulous  or  stellar 
masses   have   as  yet  evinced. 

*  "  The  conclusion,"  says  Roscoe,  "  is  obvious,  that  the  close 
association  of  points  of  light  in  a  nebula  can  no  longer  be 
accepted  as  proof  that  the  object  consists  of  true  stars.  These 
luminous  points,  in  some  nebulae  at  least,  must  be  regarded 
as  portions  of  matter  denser,  probably,  than  the  outlying 
parts  of  the  great  nebulous  mass,  but  still  gaseous." 

The  same  writer,  in  another  connection,  affirms  "that  the 
nebulae  are  not  groups  of  far-distant  suns,  because  we  find 
that  the  light  which  some  of  them  give  out  is  not  the  kind  of 
light  which  such  far-distant  fixed  stars  must  emit."  Sir 
William  Thomson,  indorsing  the  discoveries  of  Huggins, 
claims  that  the  light  of  the  nebulae,  so  far  as  hitherto  sensi- 


32         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

The  light  of  some  of  them  is  very  feeble.  Mr.  Lock- 
yer  estimates  that  an  ordinary  sperm  candle  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  distant,  would  give  off  a  light  twenty  thou- 
sand times  more  brilliant.  Two  thirds  of  the  nebulas 
thus  far  examined  are  unhesitatingly  pronounced  gase- 
ous. They  are  composed  of  nitrogen  and  hydrogen 
united  with  certain  unknown  elements.  It  has  been 
doubted  by  high  authority  whether  a  single  nebula 
can  be  pointed  out  which  contains  light  enough  "to 
light  a  good-sized  room."  In  view  of  all  these  facts, 
we  seem  forced  to  the  conclusion  that  these  number- 
less masses  and  points  of  light,  which  were  formerly 
supposed  to  be  suns  like  the  sun  in  our  planetary  sys- 
tem, and  which  were  thought  to  be  attended  by  inhab- 
ited planets  countless  in  number,  arc  for  the  mrjst  part 
luminous  gas ;  those  that  are  irresolvable  are,  at 
most,  but  primitive  "fire-mist"  "light;"  while  the 
resolvable  arc  still  in  a  gaseous  state,  though  larthcr 
advanced  than  the  irresolvable.  We  are  misled  by 
the  term  frequently  employed  —  "  clouds  of  fiery 
dust" — even,  for,  as  a  class  of  objects,  the  ncbulai, 
like  the  comets,  many  of  them,  —  two  thirds  at  least, 
—  are  nothing  but  heated  vapor.  Respecting  the  re- 
maining one  third,  it  is  shown  that  as  cor.iparctl  with 

ble  to  us,  proceeds  from  incandescent  hydrogen  and  nitroj^en 
gases.  Mr.  Tait  suggests  that  thcv  may  be  gaseous  exhala- 
tions, ignited  by  collisions  between  meteoric  stones, 

"  The  spectroscope  shows  us,"  says  David  Gill,  "  that 
these  nebulx'  are  not  stars.  l)ut  iiicandcsccnt  gas.  1  am  re- 
ported as  sa\ing  that  the  conclusion  I  had  arrived  at  was, 
that  the  nebula  '  ttv/.v  not  a  collection  of  matter^  but  a  fixed 
star*  This  is  entirely  wrong,  ami  would  have  been  more 
nearly  correct  had  it  been  reversed." 


THE    FIELD.  33 

our  solar  system  they  are  not  at  all  complete  ;  they 
are  spiral  in  their  movements  and  confused  in  their 
masses  ;  their  forms  are  irregular,  and  destitute  of  any 
apparent  system  ;  there  seems  not  the  slightest  evi- 
dence that  they  have  passed  from  their  original  chaotic 
state.  To  insist  upon  covering  them,  or  any  of  their 
dependencies,  with  living  intelligence,  is,  in  the  light 
of  modern  scientific  inquiry,  the  wildest  conjecture 
possible.  If  the  theory  of  Laplace  is  true,  they  are 
certainly  uninhabitable  ;  while  the  earlier  and  oppo- 
site theory,  as  we  have  seen,  has  at  present  not  the 
slightest  foundation.* 

One  might  as  well  live  in  the  zodiacal  light,  or 
upon  the  intangible  twilight,  or  upon  the  northern 
aurora,  or  in  a  gas  flame,  as  upon  the  nebulce.  There 
is  as  much  evidence  that  those  vast  cumulous  clouds 
of  midsummer,  which  assume  all  kinds  of  fantastic 
shapes,  —  alpine  mountains  and  royal  palaces, —  tinged 
with  the  richest  tints  of  sunrise  and  sunset,  are  the 
abodes  of  life,  as  to  suppose  that  these  almost-intermi- 
nable tracts  of  nebulous  matter  are  inhabited. 

To  emphasize  this  thought  is  unnecessary,  other 
than  at  the  single  point  of  its  bearing  upon  the  argu- 
ment from  analog}^  and  the  consistenc}^  of  things.  All 
that  has  been  said  clearly  weakens  the  force  of  these 
arguments.     If  we  mistake  not,  they  begin  to  menace 

*  While  the  theory  of  Laplace,  as  a  whole,  has  been  of  late 
years  growing  in  favor,  and  justly  so,  still  it  must  be  confess  d 
that  it  is  beset,  at  certain  points,  with  many  objections.  Tl.e 
nebulae  are  resolvable  by  the  telescope,  from  a  supposed  mass 
f)f  fluid,  into  distinct  elements,  and  by  the  spectroscope  from 
a  solid  or  liquid  state  into  the  most  attenuated  gas. 

3 


34         THE  ARENA  A\D  THE  THRONE. 

those  who  have  hitherto  employed  them  ;  at  least,  the 
advocates  of  a  plurality  of  inhabited  worlds  find,  year- 
ly, less  and  less  encouragement  in  the  varied  results 
of  scientific  investigation.  Nineteen  twentieths  of  the 
beautiful  objects  which  glimmer  in  the  midnight  heav- 
ens, and  wliich  a  few  years  since  w^ere  thought  by  some 
to  be  inhabitable,  are  now  transferred,  without  a  dis- 
senting voice,  from  the  scientific  to  the  theological  side 
of  this  question.  Man  need  no  longer  be  abashed,  re- 
garding himself  a  mere  mote,  but  may  smile  and  lift 
his  hand  for  the  crown  and  sceptre  which  revelation 
has  so  manifestly  designated  as  his  exclusive  possession. 

Fixed  Stars  are  those  self-luminous  and  twinkling 
orbs  which  occupy  regions  beyond  our  solar  system, 
and  which  in  stellar  space  rise,  many  deep,  to  heights 
and  distances  incomprehensible.  Advocates  of''  more 
worlds  than  one  "  have  been  very  confident  and  jubi- 
lant over  data  from  this  source.  From  the  magnitude 
of  these  bodies  and  tlicir  resemblance  to  our  sun,  they 
have  been  claimed,  with  confidence  wliich  scarcely 
listens  to  objection,  to  be  centres  of  systems  of  inhab- 
ited worlds  in  no  respects  inferior  to  the  planets  of 
our  solar  system,  and  in  many  respects  vastly  superior. 
Before  we  can  feel  at  liberty,  however,  to  admit  all 
that  has  been  presented  for  our  unqualified  acce])tauce 
respecting  the  fixed  stars,  we  certainly  have  the  right 
to  enter  upon  a  re-examination  of  former  suppositions 
in  the  light  of  facts  which  modern  scientific  investi- 
gation presents  to  us. 

As  early  as  1S14,  Fraunhofer  discovered  that  the 
spectra  of  the  various  fixed  stars  which  he  examined 
difier   frjm    that   of  the  sun  and   planets,      lie  came, 


THE    FIELD.  35 

thus  early,  to  the  remarkable  conclusion  that  the 
chemical  constitution  of  the  fixed  stars  must  therefore, 
in  some  respects,  difler  from  that  of  our  solar  system. 
There  are  differences  so  great  between  the  fixed  stars 
themselves,  however,  that  such  a  sw^eeping  conclusion 
as  this  of  Fraunhofer  may  not  be  admitted  by  every 
one,  especially  by  those  who  find  certain  strong  anal- 
ogies between  our  sun   and  some  of  the  fixed  stars. 

A  more  recent  statement  is  that  of  Professor  Roscoe, 
which  will  doubtless  be  regarded  by  many  as  authorita- 
tive. *'  We  have  now  arrived,"  he  says,  "  at  a  distinct 
understanding  of  the  physical  constitution  of  the  fixed 
stars:  they  consist  of  a  white-hot  nucleus,  giving  off  a 
continuous  spectrum,  surrounded  by  an  incandescent 
atmosphere,  in  which  exist  the  absorbent  vapors  of 
the  particular  metals."  But  with  this  general  state- 
ment w^e  can  hardly  rest  satisfied,  since  the  diflerent 
classes  of  fixed  stars  report  to  us,  in  each  case,  data 
distinct  and  characteristic. 

Stars  of  ]^a7'iable  L?cstre  form  a  curious  class,  and 
are  at  present  studied  with  special  interest,  From  our 
distant  point  of  view  they  appear  remarkabl}^  beauti- 
ful. But  when  the  telescope  and  spectroscope,  aided 
by  the  imagination,  enable  us  to  stand  within  hailing 
distance,  nay,  to  plant  our  feet  upon  their  siirface  and 
to  penetrate  beneath  their  fiery  ej^teripr,  we  find  that 
the  sublime  energies  which  are  at  work  upon  and 
within  them  are  well  nigh  appalling;  settled  at  once 
is  the  question  of  their  inhabitabihty,  and  that  of  any 
system  of  planets  which  may  or  may  not  be  revolving 
about  them.  The  variableness,  so  beautiful  to  tiie 
naked  eye,  but  so  terrible  to  the  eye  of  science,  is  the  re- 


36         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

suit  of  enormous  and  sometimes  sudden  explosions  of 
hvdros^en  j^as.  This  fierce  aui^fmentation  of  li^lit  and 
heat  would  terminate  the  supposed  organized  planetary 
life  in  an  instant.*  No  less  fearful  for  these  conjectured 
planetary  inhabitants  is  the  sudden  diminution,  and  in 
some  instances  the  entire  extinction,  of  the  liglit  of  the 
variable  stars.  Think  of  a  system  of  inhabited  worlds 
having  a  sun  brilliant  as  ours,  which  perceptibly 
begins  to  wane  with  no  returning  spring-time  !  f  Or 
think  of  a  system  of  worlds  flooded  one  day  with  light 
and  heat,  the  next  plunged  into  the  thickest  dark- 
ness, and  locked  •  in  the  embrace  of  universal  ice ! 
Sorrowful,   indeed,    the    plight    of  those    inhabitants.]: 

*  Professor  Roscoe  bears  out  Lockyer  andjannsen  in  a  cal- 
culation that  if  the  intensity  of  the  sun's  rays  were  increased 
no  more  than  were  those  of  the  stars  in  the  Northern  Crown 
in  May,  1S66,  our  sohd  globe  would  be  dissipated  in  vapor 
almost  as  soon  as  a  drop  of  water  in  a  furnace.  The  ter.ipor- 
ature  in  the  sunlight  would  rise  at  once  to  that  only  attaina- 
ble in  the  focus  of  the  largest  burning-glass. 

t  The  first  two  stars  in  Ilvdra,  in  less  than  a  human  life- 
time, changed,  in  the  seventeenth  century,  from  the  fourth 
to  the  eighth  magnitude,  so  that  the  most  fearful  and  perpet- 
ual winter  succeeded  what  had  been  perpetual  summer.  A 
notable  star  in  the  Swan  varies  from  the  fifth  to  the  tenth 
magnitude.  A  star  in  Cepheus  changes  in  five  days  from 
the  third  to  the  fifth  magnitude.  A  star  in  Lyra  in  six  days 
diminishes  from  the  third  to  the  fifth  magnitude.  A  c,tar 
in  the  Whale  is  subjected  to  remarkable  changes  ;  waxing, 
waning,  disappearing,  and  then  relighting  its  llames,  and 
shining  for  a  time  with  steady  brilliancy. 

X  A  noted  star  in  the  Great  Bear  vanished  in  the  eighteenth 
century;  the  eighth  and  ninth  stars  of  Taurus  have  also  dis- 
appeared; the  fiflj.-fifth  star  of  Hercules,  a  star  in  Auriga, 
the  eleventh  in  Lupus,  and  several  olher.s  in  the  catalogue  of 


THE    FIELD.  37 

Nay,  these  appearances  may  indicate  that  the  entire 
class  of  variable  and  periodic  stars  are  self-luminous 
bodies,  as  yet  destitute  of  permanent  forms,  and  like- 
wise destitute  of  attending  regular  planetary  systems. 
Another  class  of  fixed  stars,  known  as  double  or 
compound  stars^  possess  certain  remarkable  features. 
The  earlier  term,  "  double,"  is  hardly  exact,  for  many 
are  found  to  be  not  only  double,  but  triple,  quadruple, 
and  even  multiple.  M.  Struve  is  authority  for  saying 
that  not  less  than  one  in  three  or  four  of  the  fixed  stars 
are  compound.  Still  more  remarkable  is  the  fact  that 
diflerent  parts  of  compound  stars  often  shine  with  dif- 
ferent colors.  A  combination  frequently  occurring  is 
crimson  and  blue.*  The  singular  vicissitudes  of  light 
diffused  upon  the  attendant  planets  (if  they  are  attend- 
ed), in  consequence  of  two  suns  in  their  firmament,  is 
well  nigh  inconceivable  by  the  poor  mortals  inhabit- 
ing the  earth,  who  have  but  a  single  sun  to  light  the 
day  and  a  single  moon  to  reflect  the  sun-light  by  night. 
In  general,  such  suns  will  rise  at  different  times. 
When  the  blue  sun  rises,  it  will  for  a  time  preside 
alone  in  the  heavens,  diff^using  a  blue  morning.  Its 
crimson  companion,  however,  soon  appearing,  the 
lights  of  both  being  blended  in  the  strongest  combina- 
tion at  intervals,  may  result  in  a  midday  of  white  light. 
As  evening  approaches,  and  the  two  orbs  descend 
towards  the  western  horizon,  the  blue  sun  will  first  set, 

Ptolemy,  have  vanished,  leaving  their  planetary  inhabitants 
to  raise  their  crops  and  grope  their  waj-  under  star-light. 

*  The  combination  red  and  green  is  found  in  Hercules  and 
Cassiopeia;  brown  and  green,  also  brown  and  blue,  in  the 
Whale,  Giraffe,  Orion,  Gemini,  and  Swan. 


38         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

leaving  the  crimson  one  alone  in  the  heavens,  and 
like  a  mighty  conflagration  will  light  up  the  western 
sky,  and  close  the  day.  As  the  year  rolls  on,  these 
changes  will  be  varied  in  every  conceivable  manner. 
At  those  seasons  when  the  suns  are  on  opposite  sides 
of  the  planet,  crimson  and  blue  days  will  alternate, 
without  any  intervening  night ;  and  at  tlie  intermedi- 
ate epochs  all  the  various  intervals  of  rising  and  set- 
ting of  the  two  suns  will  be  exhibited.  Clouds,  wa- 
ters, and  vegetation  will  each  share  in  this  multiplicity 
of  changing  hues.*  The  romance  of  all  this  witchery 
of  star  wonders  is  still  further  enhanced  upon  the  dis- 
covery of  stars  which  have  the  extraordinary  power 
of  changing  their  color,  —  rightly  named  "  chameleon 
stars."  One  of  the  components  of  a  double  star  in  Her- 
cules changed,  in  twelve  vears,  from  yellow,  tln'ough 
gray,  clierry  red,  and  a  most  beautiful  red,  to  yellow 
again.  The  variations  produced,  in  consequence,  can- 
not be  described,  nor  realized,  nor  scarcely  imagined. 
But  it  should  be  ever  borne  in  mind  that  the  more 
wonderful  these  marvels  of  stellar  condition,  the  more 
inevitably  are  all  these  stars  removed  from  the  field  of 
analogy,  and  the  more  surely  tue  they  rendered  unin- 
habitable. The  spectrum  of  every  colored  star,  as  we 
are  assured  b^-  KirchhoO',  wants  certain  rays  existing 
in  our  solar  spectrum.  We  find,  therefore,  as  in  case 
of  the  nebuhe,  that  those  of  the  fixed  stars  which  are 
varial>le  and  compound,  though  grand  and  imposing 
astronomical  bodies,  are  \cvv  far  from  helping  t'.ie 
cause  of  More  Worlds  than  One.  l>ut  it  is  asked.  Are 
tiieie  not  white  stais  which  })resent  strong  and  uncpies- 

*   Professr^r  Liirdner.     Appendix  C 


THE    FIELD.  39 

tioned  analogies  between  themselves  and  the  sun?  It 
has  been  so  claimed.  Our  knowledge  of  some  of 
them  is  yet  limited.  While  awaiting  additional  facts, 
we  must  bear  in  mind  that  nothing  yet  like  a  planet 
has  been  discovered  revolving  around  any  one  of  the 
fixed  stars.  The  absence  of  regular  motion  among  the 
fixed  stars  ;  the  slowness  of  their  changes,  indicating 
extreme  rarity  ;  their  gyratory  movements,  indicating 
crudeness,  long  since  led  Humboldt  to  maintain  the 
opinion  that  the  whole  weight  of  analogy  is  against  ex- 
isting similarity  between  the  sun  and  the  fixed  stars. 
The  earlier  supposition  of  Herschel,  that  some  of  the 
fixed  stars  —  Alpha,  Centauri,  and  Sirius  —  emit  more 
light  than  the  sun,  is  also  now  set  aside  as  untenable. 
Later  investigations,  based  upon  a  more  accurate  and 
extended  observation  of  phenomena,  show  that  their 
light  in  many  instances  is  less  than  that  of  the  sun, 
and  tiiat  in  this  respect  our  sun,  instt-ad  of  being  one 
of  the  least,  is  among  tlie  more  important  objects  in  the 
entire  physical  universe. 

The  hypotliesis  so  grandly  stated  by  General  Mitch- 
ell and  others,  that  the  sun,  with  its  retinue  of  planets, 
is  revolving  about  some  distant  centre,  in  common 
with  other  solar  systems,  is  very  far  from  receiving 
general  indorsement.  Regularity  of  motion  in  the 
solar  system  can  be  explained  more  easily  upon  a  less 
complicated  hypothesis.  The  earlier  speculations  of 
Kant,  Lambert,  and  Wright  (middle  of  the  eighteenth 
century),  subsequently  indorsed  and  confirmed  by  Sir 
W.  Herschel,  that  the  Milky  Way  is  a  projection  on 
the  sphere  of  a  stratum  of  stars,  in  the  midst  of 
which  our  sun  and  system  are  placed,  with  a  possible 


40         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

centre  towards  Sirius,  is  much  more  in  harmony  with 
recent  discoveries.*  Who  can  tell  but  ours  is  the  only 
ripe  sun  in  the  universe  !  We  may  be  forced  to  the 
conclusion,  after  all,  that  the  grandest  created  thing  is 

I  not  at  the  large  but  at  the  small  end  of  the  telescope. 

I  It  may  turn  out  that  a  human  being,  with  a  tele- 
\  J  scope  in  one  hand,  a  spectroscope  in  the  other,  and 
himself  endowed  with  imagination,  and  not  some 
actual  inhabitant  on  those  beautiful  stars,  is  the  one 
for  whom  magnificent  stellar  entertainments  have 
been  nightly  given.  The  conceptions  of  Herschel 
and  Laplace  are  no  less  grand  that  they  are  earthlings 
than  if  they  had  been  denizens  of  Algol  or  Mira. 
^Madness  must  indeed  be  in  the  brain  of  the  astrono- 
mer who  falls  not  often  upon  his  knees.  God  is  not 
shorn  of  his  glory,  nor  have  his  purposes  met  defeat, 
though  Brewster  and  Dr.  Chalmers  should  chance  to 
have  been  mistaken.  We  thank  the  one  for  his  pro- 
found reasonings  and  thrilling  suppositions,  and  the 
other  for  his  sublime  rhetorical  flights;  but  no  man  is 
infallible.  "A  theory,"  as  Voltaire  has  quaintly  re- 
marked, "  is  like  a  mouse,  which  may  successfully  pass 
nineteen  holes,  but  is  stopped  at  the  twentieth." 

We  thank  Science  for  the   much  siie  has  disclosed. 

I  We  await  yet  greater   revelations.     Perhaps   she  will 

I  tell  us  anou  that  the  astronomical  centre  of  the  pliNsical 

*  Tlic  illustration  fiist  proposed  by  Ilorschcl  is.  that  the 
universe  of  stars  presents  a  form  similar  to  that  of  two  watch 
crystals,  brought  together  so  as  to  forin  a  hollow  tlouble  con- 
vex, and  that  the  solar  system  is  placed  in  or  near  the  centre. 
Proctor,  in  his  Essays  on  Astronomy^  p.  331,  has  a  diagiam, 
given  for  another  ])in-pose,  which  may,  however,  prove  a  cor- 
*ect  representation  of  the  stellar  uni\erse. 


THE    FIELD. 


41 


DIAGRAM   FROM   PROCTOR'S  "ESSAYS  ON   ASTRONOMY." 


42         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

universe  is  identical  with  its  theological  centre,  — both 
being  not  far  from  the  present  home  of  humanity. 

TJic  Solar  Syste7n.  —  The  arguments  from  analogy 
and  tlie  consistency  of  things  have  been  so  weakened 
by  investigations  in  the  nebular  and  the  stellar  heavens 
that  the  theory  of  the  general  inhabitability  of  the  solar 
system  must  be  left  to  stand  or  fall  upon  its  own  mer- 
its ;  presumptions  in  favor  of  such  views  there  are  not. 

The  most  majestic  body  in  the  solar  system  is  the 
Sim.  A  theory,  which  gained  for  a  time  some  head- 
way, claims  that  beneath  the  phosphorescent  atmos- 
phere of  the  sun  is  a  non-luminous  atmosphere,  sur- 
rounding an  interior  body  protected  from  the  exterior 
fiery  rays,  and  thereby  rendered  suitable  for  habitation. 

"■  If,"  said  Arago,  ''  you  ask  me  this  question,  Is 
the  sun  inhabited?  I  should  answer  that  I  know 
nothing  about  it.  But  if  you  ask  me  if  the  sun  can  be 
inhabited  by  beings  organized  like  those  who  people 
our  globe,  I  should  not  hesitate  to  answer.  Yes." 

This  view  is  evidently  an  out-growth  of  the  no 
longer  tenable  supposition  that  it  is  a  wasteful  econo- 
my to  create  grand  and  majestic  bodies,  and  leave 
them  destitute  of  intelligent  inhabitants.  Certainly,  if 
such  reasoning  can  anywhere  apply,  it  is  in  the  case 
before  us.  The  size  and  magnificence  of  the  sun  reso- 
li.tely  demand  inhabitants,  if  such  characteristics  fur- 
nish a(lc(|uale  reason  for  providing  ]:)opiilations.  I'o 
form  a  body  equal  to  the  sun  in  bulk,  it  would  be 
necessary  to  roll  into  (juc  nearly  i  .400,000  globes  of 
the  size  of  our  earth.  Place  togetlicr  all  the  i)lancts 
of  our  system,  and  as  a  })roduct  there  would  be  a  body 
five  hundred  times  less  in  bulk  than  the  sun.     There- 


THE    FIELD.  43 

fore,  according  to  the  reasoning  sometimes  employed, 
if  any  spot  in  the  solar  system  is  inhabited,  then,  by 
all  odds,  must  the  sun  be  thronged  with  inhabitants. 
But  we  have  already  thrice  seen  that  Science  no  longer 
listens  to  such  arguments.  No  matter  how  great,  no 
matter  how  grand,  the  object  may  be,  —  the  telescope 
and  spectroscope  take  it  in  hand  to  settle  the  question 
without  leave  or  license,  and  without  the  least  respect  for 
our  preconceptions.  Aided  by  the  telescope  we  look 
upon  a  conflagration  in  the  sun  of  such  immense  and 
appalling  proportions  as  would  instantly  destroy  organ- 
ized physical  life,  though  distant  from  it  by  hundreds 
of  thousands  of  miles.  Under  a  July  tropical  sun, 
though  ninety-four  millions  of  miles  away,  we  are  full 
near  enough  for  comfort.  The  theory  of  a  non-lumi- 
nous atmosphere  is  a  tremendous  and  obstinate  effort 
to  render  habitable  a  realm  which  is  most  manifestly 
uninhabitable.* 

Lockyer,  who  has  estimated  the  extent  of  the  solar 
flames,  has  given  us  some  startling  figures.  He  has 
seen  masses  of  flame  leaping  upward  from  the  body 
of  the  sun  twenty-seven  thousand  miles  in  height;  and 
then,  as  if  conscious  of  a  defeated  effort  to  destroy  the 
universe,  he  has  seen  them  settle  back  again  to  their 
ordinary  level    in  a  space  of  less  than    ten    minutes. 

*  The  heat  at  the  sun's  surface,  by  accurate  experiment,  is 
found  to  be  prodigious.  The  fiercest  blaze  of  a  furnace  gives 
off  not  a  seventh  part  as  much  heat.  What  form  of  life  is 
there  which  is  adapted  to  such  abodes?  The  test  of  polari- 
zation of  light,  applied  by  Arago,  has  conclusively  shown  that 
the  luminous  matter  of  the  sun  is  gaseous.  But  perhaps  men 
could  be  so  conditioned  as  to  live  in  gas-flame.  (_?  ) 


44         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

Other  flames  have  been  seen  to  flash  up  to  the  enor- 
mous distance  of  from  ninety  to  a  hundred  thousand 
miles.  The  vast  vokmies  of  smoke  rising  from  these 
sohir  eruptions  can  be  distinctly  seen  with  the  eye  un- 
aided by  the  telescope.*  If  any  doubts  ha\e  remained 
as  to  the  accuracy  of  telescopic  observations,  they  are 
now  completely  silenced  by  the  science  of  spectrum 
analysis.  There  is  at  present  no  question  but  that  the 
physical  composition  and  exact  chemical  nature  of  the 
sun  are  accurately  disclosed  to  us  by  the  tests  of  the 
solar  spectra  under  the  experiments  of  such  men  as 
Bunsen  and  Kirchhoif.-j-  They  confirm  observations 
made  by  telescopes,  and  the  experiments  of  polariza- 
tion, and  fully  restore  the  opinions  of  those  philoso- 
phers of  the  middle  ages  who  saw  in  the  sun,  not  an 
inhabited  world, —  which,  unless  inhabited,  would  be  a 
reproach  to  the  wisdom  of  the  Creator,  — but  a  ''  globe 
of  fire,"  a  kind  of  ''  gigantic  torch,"  which,  together 
with  the  moon,  was  set  ''  in  the  firmament  of  heaven, 
to  give  light  upon  the  earth,  and  to  rule  over  the  day 
and  over  the  night,  and  to  divide  the  light  from  the 
darkness,"  expressly  for  the  benefit  of  man.| 

*  This  is,  doubtless,  the  most  satisfactory  explanation  of  the 
spots  visible  upon  the  sun's  surface.  The  view  that  they  are 
produced  by  the  sudden  fall  upon  the  sun's  surface  of  immense 
quantities  of  meteoric  matter,  which,  by  force  of  concussion, 
fusion,  and  ignition,  are  afterwards  converted  into  solar-fuel, 
or  that  they  are  produced  by  terrific  tornadoes,  sweeping 
over  ilic  sun's  surface,  similar  to  those  which  sometimes  vi.sit 
our  own  ti()j)ics,  are  theories  which  can  hardly  be  said  to 
have,  at  the  jiicsent  time,  the  support  of  science.  See  Ap- 
pendix D. 

t  Appendix   E.  +  Gen.  i.  17-19. 


THE    FIELD.  45 

The  planets  are  to  us  the  nearest  visible  astronom- 
ical bodies.  Tiiey  have  known  analogies  between 
themselves  and  the  earth  more  striking  and  more  nu- 
merous than  have  any  of  the  bodies  already  examined. 
Very  confident  have  been  many  vs^riters,  that  human 
inhabitants  occupy  the  planets,  who  differ  not  much, 
if  in  any  respect,  from  ourselves.  Others,  with  equal 
confidence,  have  pointed  out  certain  important  dif- 
ferences distinguishing  the  various  planetary  inhabit- 
ants. But  those  who  of  late  have  given  the  subject 
anything  like  critical  attention  have  concluded  that 
the  most  which  has  heretofore  been  written  respecting 
planetary  inhabitants  is  purely  visionary,  and  so  arbi- 
trary in  its  character  as  to  preclude  its  reception  as 
in  the  least  degree  reliable.  Dr.  Chalmers  kept  with- 
in the  bounds  of  reasonable  conjecture  ;  but  certain 
others  —  Sir  Humphry  Davy,  Fontenelle,  Christian 
Wolf,  and  Andrew  Jackson  Davis,  for  illustration, 
—  have  allowed  their  enthusiasms  and  imaginations 
to  run  into  all  sorts  of  wild  vagaries  and  extrava- 
gances. The  inhabitants  of  the  planet  Saturn  are  rep- 
resented by  Davy  as  efl^ecting  their  locomotion  by  the 
agency  of  six  wings.  Their  arms,  he  says,  resemble 
the  trunks  of  elephants ;  and  though  in  form  they  are 
a  species  of  zoophyte,  still  they  are  more  intelligent 
than  man. 

Fontenelle  likewise  favors  us  with  the  jDcculiar 
characteristics  of  the  different  planetary  inhabitants. 
Some  he  represents  as  exceedingly  phlegmatic,  others 
lively  and  agile  as  the  most  active  Frenchman.  Some 
are  like  the  Moors  of  Granada,  and  still  others  like 
fur-clad  Laplanders. 


46  THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

The  inhabitants  of  Mercury  are  represented  by 
Hnygens  as  pre-eminently  scientific,  their  close  prox- 
imity to  the  sun  giving  them  peculiar  advantages  in 
astronomical  investigations.  Christian  Wolf,  the  Ger- 
man astronomer,  estimates  that  the  inhabitants  of  Ju- 
piter are  fourteen  feet  in  height  by  eye  measurement. 
But  Proctor,  by  a  course  of  reasoning  equally  clear, 
shows  that  they  are  but  two  and  a  half  feet  in  height.* 
Andrew  Jackson  Davis  stands  in  advance  of  all  others 
in  furnishing  definite  information  upon  this  subject. 
Of  course  his  announcements  must  be  received  as  re- 
liable, (?)  for  he  is  claimed  by  modern  medium  spirit- 
ualists, as  already  remarked,  to  be  the  most  wonderful 
clairvoyant  medium  of  the  age,  and  is  supposed  to 
have  visited  in  person  the  various  planets  he  has  so 
minutely  described,  and  to  have  held  consultation  in 
person   witli  these  our  planetary  kindred. 

There  are,  according  to  this  distinguished  oracle,  two 
classes  of  inhabitants  upon  the  planet  Saturn.  Those 
of  the  first  and  lower  class  are  represented  as  very 
muscular;  their  bodies  are  rather  wide  than  otherwise, 
and  not  perfectly  round  ;  they  have  great  strength  and 
elasticity  of  movement ;  tliey  have  more  extensive 
scope  of  mental  comprehension  than  the  inhabitants 
of  earth  ;  and  they  are  characterized  by  strong  passions 
and  love  of  mirth.  On  the  other  hand,  the  higher 
men  of  Saturn  are  represented  as  tlie  perfection  of 
physical  development ;  their  lungs,  heart,  and  head, 
which  are  fully  described  by  Mr.  Davis,  are  the  em- 
bodiment of  health  and  perfection  ;   tlieir  judgment  is 

*  Appendix  F. 


THE    FIELD.  47 

SO  excellent  (though  we  fail  to  see  the  connection) 
that  they  do  not  know  what  weakness  or  sickness 
means ;  the  most  difficult  subjects  are  comprehended 
by  one  grasp  of  their  gigantic  intellects  ;  they  have 
telescopic  eyes,  which  can  reach  through  the  entire 
solar  system  ;  they  dwell  in  immense  buildings,  and 
live  under  a  general  free-love  system  similar  to  that 
advocated  by  Mr.  Theodore  Tilton. 

The  inhabitants  of  Jupiter  are  also,  in  substance,  thus 
described  by  Mr.  Davis  :  They  are  not  in  any  respect 
fully  up  to  the  standard  of  those  of  Saturn  ;  through  a 
constitutional  modesty  they  assume  an  inclined  position 
closely  resembling  the  modern  Grecian  bend  ;  they  are 
more  highly  intellectual  and  amiable  than  the  inhabit 
ants  of  earth ;  they  are  able  to  converse  by  the  dexter 
ous  working  or  winking  of  the  upper  lip  ;  their  com- 
munities are  made  up  of  spiritual  affinities,  as  in  Sat- 
urn :  in  consequence,  they  multiply  rapidly,  and  enjoy 
perfect  health  ;  they  never  die,  but  their  bodies  are 
changed  by  a  process  of  felicitous  evaporation ;  so 
enormous  are  their  expansive  and  sweeping  intellects 
that  they  comprehend  all  things  and  relations  by  a 
single  concentrated  thought ;  they  live  in  tents  upon 
the  equator,  and  their  society  is  an  harmonious  and 
happy  brotherhood  of  medium  spiritualists. 

According  to  Mr.  Davis,  the  peculiarity  of  the  in- 
habitants of  Mars  is,  that  they  have  upon  the  tops  of 
their  heads  no  hair,  resulting,  it  is  possible,  from  the 
bondage  in  which  for  a  long  time  they  may  have  been 
held. 

The  inhabitants  of  Venus  are  noted  for  having  a 
splendid  breathing  and  digestive  apparatus,  the  latter 


48         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

of  which  is  quite  necessary,  as  they  eat  with  perfect 
impunity  their  own  oOspring. 

The  human  inhabitants  of  Mercury  are  celebrated 
for  their  incessant  activity,  prodigious  memories,  and 
orang-outang  appearance  ;  they  have  no  use  for  their 
ears,  and  fight  with  shngs  and  stones.  They  have,  as 
we  should  expect  of  such  barbarians,  no  spiritualists 
among  them,  hut  are  governed  by  an  ignorant  and 
self-constituted  arbitration,  and  their  church  polity  is 
probably  Old  School  Presbyterian. 

Favored  as  we  are  with  so  many  and  such  definite 
accounts  as  to  our  outside  kindred,  it  seems  ung-rateful 
not  to  accept  these  statements  as  final,  especiall}'  since 
the  rest  of  the  stellar  universe  seems  so  ill  suited  for 
the  purposes  of  habitation.  Why  not  without  contro- 
versy concede  the  point  that  the  planets  are  each  in- 
habited? Has  not  enough  already  been  shown  respect- 
ing the  nebula}  and  fixed  stars  to  satisfy  the  theological 
argument?  Shall  we  not  be  lonesome  and  homesick 
if  there  be  no  one  beyond  to  hail  and  return  our  sig- 
nals anon,  when  our  sciences  reach  greater  perfection? 
Possibly.  A  few  additional  facts,  however,  can  injure 
no  one  ;  facts  are  dangerous  only  to  the  false. 

Of  the  planets  Uranus  and  Neptune,  the  arctic 
worlds,  we  say  nothing,  for  their  position  places  them 
beyond  controversy  ;  they  are  dark  and  vaporous 
worlds,  frozen  too,  unless  their  internal  and  primeval 
fires   are   still   smouldering. 

The  planet  Saiiirn  can,  however,  haidly  be  tlius 
quickly  passed  by  in  silenec.  It  is  a  stupendous  globe 
as  compared  with  the  earth  ;  its  volume  is  nearly  nine 
hundred  times  greater;    it   is   less  imposing  in  its  di- 


THE    FIELD.  49 

menslons  than  Jupiter,  but  more  magnificent  in  its 
surroundings.  Eight  moons  sail  through  its  heav- 
ens, presenting  the  varying  phases  of  waxing  and 
waning  in  striking  contrasts  and  combinations ;  three 
rings,  one  nearly  transparent,  each  having  regular 
periodic  revolutions,  encircle  this  planet  with  their 
beautiful  drapery.  A  lunar  or  solar  eclipse  upon 
our  earth  is  a  rare  occurrence,  and  rivets  the  atten- 
tion and  interest  of  humanity.  But  upon  Saturn  the 
phenomenon  is  of  dail}^  occurrence.  In  some  of  its 
latitudes  there  may  be  seen  one,  two,  three,  and  even 
four  solar  eclipses  daily.  Aside  from  these,  there  is 
every  conceivable  variety  of  eclipse  coming  from  in- 
terpositions and  conjunctions  of  sun,  moons,  and  rings, 
resulting  in  a  display  of  astronomical  wonders  which 
would  thrill  an  intelligent  eye-witness  with  inexpres- 
sible delight.  Owing  to  these  splendid  arrangements 
and  adornings  of  Saturn,  it  has.  been  selected  by 
advocates  of  more  worlds  than  one  as  the  abode  of 
the  most  favored,  intelligent,  and  exalted  species  of 
human  creatures.  But  however  I'emorseless  it  may 
seem  to  disturb  and  dislodge  these  imaginary  inhab- 
itants, modern  science  has  presented  certain  facts,  we 
are  compelled  to  confess,  before  which  past  specula- 
tions vanish  as  the  mists  of  morning.  The  density 
of  this  ringed  world  is  now  estimated  to  be  no  greater 
than  that  of  the  lightest  cork.  The  sun  appears  to 
one  upon  its  surface  little  else  than  a  distant  star. 
The  rings,  so  beautiful  to  us  under  telescopic  ob- 
servation, produce  an  eclipse  upon  some  parts  of 
its  surface  of  fifteen  years'  duration.  The  various 
phenomena  which  this  planet  presents  to  us  were 
4 


50         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

accounted  for,  until  quite  recently,  upon  the  sup- 
position that  it  has  a  nucleus  of  cinders  at  the  centre 
surrounded  by  a  vast  extent  of  vapors  scarcely  more 
ponderous  than  a  London  fog ;  hence,  if  this  is  the 
correct  supposition,  men  can  no  more  inhabit  Saturn 
than  they  can  live  in  a  mass  of  frozen  mist,  which  the 
sun  is  never  able  to  penetrate.  The  supposition  now 
generally  approved  is,  that  Saturn  consists  of  an  un so- 
lidified mass  of  star-stuft'  in  process  of  cooling,  subject 
to  internal  throes  so  tremendous  as  to  upheave  hundreds 
of  square  miles  of  its  surface  far  above  the  ordinary 
level,  giving  it  its  frequent  "square-shouldered"  ap- 
pearance. If  this  is  the  condition  of  Saturn,  then,  in- 
stead of  frozen  fog,  the  surrounding  clement  is  a  mass 
of  heated  vapors  and  clouds  which  are  continually  ris- 
ing from  the  seething  fires  beneath.  This  planet,  ac- 
cording to  this  supposition,  is  as  uninhabitable  as  a 
volcano,  whose  fires  have  subsided,  but  are  far  from 
extinguished. 

The  grandest  exterior  planet  known  to  our  system 
is  Jupiter.  Though  at  a  distance  which  almost  con- 
founds the  imagination,  it  is,  when  in  the  meridian, 
upon  a  winter's  midnight,  one  of  the  most  magnificent 
of  the  heavenly  bodies.  Roll  together  into  one  fourteen 
hundred  worlds  like  our  ov/n,  and  tlicre  would  result  a 
planet  no  larger  in  bulk  than  Jupiter.  Its  stupendous 
magnitude  with  difficulty  dawns  upon  us  even  under 
telescopic  observation.  When  Galileo  directed  the  first 
telescope  to  the  examination  of  Jupiter,  he  discovered 
four  minute  objects  which  he  at  first  supposed  to  be 
stars,  but  subsequently  discovered  to  be  moons  like 
our  own.     The  one  nearest  Jupiter,  in   the  brief  space 


THE    FIELD.  5I 

of  forty-two  hours,  goes  through  all  its  phases,  from 
the  thin,  extended  ring  to  the  full  and  rounded  circle. 
The  progress  of  its  changes  is  so  rapid  that  it  would 
be  actually  visible  to  a  near  eye-witness.  The  other 
satellites  have  longer  periods,  and  are  so  arranged 
that  one  standing  upon  Jupiter  would  enjoy  four  dif- 
ferent months  at  the  same  time,  being  in  duration  four, 
eight,  seventeen,  and  forty  days  respectively.  One 
would  scarcely  need  a  time-piece  upon  this  planet,  for 
its  wonderful  celestial  clock-work  is  provided  with  its 
month,  day,  hour,  minute,  and  even  second  hand. 
Littrow  *  highly  congratulates  the  astronomers  of 
Jupiter,  inasmuch  as  the  sunlight  is  so  faint  that,  with 
the  naked  eye,  they  can  see  the  stars  at  midday. 

But  there  is  another  side  to  this  enchanting  picture. 
Littrow  does  not  tell  us  whether  agriculturists  would 
be  satisfied  with  the  system  of  things  found  upon  this 
planet ;  it  would  seem  that  while  the  astronomer  was 
laughing  everybody  else  would  be  found  weeping. 

Jupiter,  at  its  greatest  distance,  is  five  hundred  and 
eighteen  millions  of  miles  from  the  sun  ;  the  light  and 
heat  are  therefore  four  fifths  less  than  upon  the  earth ; 
its  days  and  nights  will  scarcely  average  five  hours  in 
length  ;  its  reflective  pov^er,  as  great  as  that  of  white 
paper,  which  renders  the  star  so  beautiful  to  us,  is  in 
consequence  of  perpetual  banks  of  clouds  and  vapors, 
which  Madler,  after  careful  examination,  concludes 
must  shut  out  from  its  surface,  except  from  very  nar- 
row limits,  all  light  from  the  sun.  Even  did  the  unob- 
structed sun-light  fall  directly  upon  the  surface  of  thjs 
planet,    only  four   tenths   of  the  light  thus    received, 

*  Picture  of  the  Heavens. 


52  THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

owing  to  the  planet's  reflective  power,  would  be  avail- 
able for  the  jDurposes  of  economy.  The  former  sup- 
position of  science,  that  Jupiter  is  a  mass  of  ice- 
logged  waters  and  frozen  fogs  surrounding  central 
cinders  of  matter,  answered  the  condition  of  most  of 
the  phenomena"  presented  ;  but  more  recent  investiga- 
tions incline  to  the  conclusion  that  this  giant  among 
the  planets  is  a  mass  of  fire-fluid  bubbling  and  seeth- 
ing, but  in  such  condition,  however,  as  to  emit  for  us 
but  the  slightest  degree  of  light  and  heat.  One  or  the 
other  of  the  above  suppositions  is  unquestionably 
true :  in  the  one  case  the  inhabitants  of  Jupiter  must 
be  aquatic  men  made  up  of  frozen  pulp  ;  in  the  other 
case  they  must  be  such  men  as  can  live  in  a  world 
whose  entire  surface  is  covered  with  vortices  of  active 
volcanoes,  and  whose  atmosphere  is  gaseous  exhala- 
tions equalled  only  by  those  of  some  pit  infernal.* 

From  Jupiter  we,  for  the  present,  pass  by  the  Plan- 
etoids and  Mars,  the  Earth,  and  the  Moon,  calling  at- 
tention first  to  those  planets  which  lie  between  us  and 
the  sun. 

Mercury  need  not  long  detain  us,  since  the  most 

*  The  eruptive  action  is  especially  observed  upon  Jupiter 
when  it  is  nearest  the  sun;  and  likewise  the  sun's  eruptive 
action  is  at  that  time  the  greatest,  through  their  mutual  at- 
traction. The  belts  of  Jupiter  are,  doubtless,  due  to  the  vio- 
lent discharge  of  vapors  from  regions  below  its  visible  sur- 
face. Proctor  concludes  that  Jupiter  cannot  be  inhabited, 
but  claims  that  its  moons  are  favored  with  inhabitants.  Per- 
haps we  ought  not  to  press  one  who  is  driven  to  such  shifts; 
but  the  fact  is,  Jupiter's  moons  ^re  as  uninhabitable  as  would 
be  our  earth  if  scarcely  a  ray  of  illumination  reached  us  from 
the  sun. 


THE    FIELD.  53 

frantic  suppositions  and  imaginary  contrivances  have 
failed  to  render  it  inhabitable.  A  dense  atmosphere 
has  been  proposed  by  some,  a  rare  atmosphere  by 
others,  and  a  single  and  double  envelope  of  clouds  by 
certain  others,  as  a  means  of  modifying  the  intense 
heat  of  the  sun's  rays ;  but  either  supposition  defeats 
the  object  sought,  and  proves  about  equally  fatal  to  the 
imaginary  inhabitants  of  this  planet.*  In  fine,  its  close 
proximity  to  the  sun  giving  it,  w^hen  nearest  the  sun, 
ten  times  the  light  and  heat  we  receive ;  Its  extreme 
density  and  general  astronomical  appearance  indicat- 
ing its  utter  destitution  of  w^ater  and  atmosphere  ;  its 
abrupt  and  extreme  climatic  changes,  in  consequence  of 
its  prodigious  inclination  (70°),  — are  conditions  which, 

*  The  ingenuity  of  some  unscientific  men,  in  these  matters, 
is  often  very  remarkable  and  amusing.  For  instance,  when 
it  was  thought  that  the  day  of  Venus  was  considerably  longer 
than  ours,  it  was  clearly  shown  that  such  an  arrangement  is 
indispensable  to  this  planet;  but  the  day  is  found  to  be  actu- 
ally a  little  less  than  ours  (23  hours,  21  minutes,  24  seconds). 
Likewise  elaborate  articles  have  appeared,  showing  how  ex- 
cellent is  the  arrangement  of  the  rings  and  moons  of  Saturn 
and  the  moons  of  Jupiter,  in  order  to  give  the  extra  and 
necessary  light  to  these  distant  planets;  but  the  fact  is, 
that  the  multiple  moon-light  of  Jupiter  and  Saturn  is  not  a 
twentieth  of  that  which  our  moon  gives  to  the  earth.  Thus, 
likewise,  in  the  case  of  Mercury;  if  the  atmosphere  is  ex- 
tremely^ dense,  it  would  i-ender  the  heat  by  day  sufficient  to 
boil  water  at  the  equator;  if  extremely  rare,  it  would  render 
the  cold  by  night  sufficient  to  congeal  the  gases,  even  ;  while 
an  envelope  of  clouds  sufficient  to  afford  protection  would,  in 
the  first  place,  require  a  dense  atmosphere  to  support  them, 
and,  in  the  second  place,  would  require  a  thickness  of  clouds 
such  as  to  leave  the  planet  in  almost  total  darkness. 


54         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

SO  far  as  we  can  imagine,  render  both  animal  and 
vegetable   life   impossible  upon  its  surfoce. 

The  beautiful  and  conspicuous  planet  Vcmts^  our 
morning  and  evening  star,  next  greets  us,  but  its  re- 
ports, under  scientific  examination,  vary  not  much 
from  those  of  Mercury.  The  sun,  as  seen  from  its 
surface,  would  present  magnificent  but  terrible  phe- 
nomena. The  inclination  of  the  axis  of  Venus  is  such 
that  there  is  poured  down  upon  the  same  latitude  an 
intensity  of  light  and  heat  unknown  at  our  equator  in 
midsummer ;  but  a  little  later  there  follows  a  polar 
winter,  whose  cold  is  such  as  to  defy  any  known 
chemical  test.*  No  flora  or  fauna  known  to  the  earth 
could  endure  for  a  single  season  such  abrupt  changes. 
Nor  could  the  denizens  of  the  arctic  and  sub-arctic 
regions  live  through  the  heat  of  a  single  midsummer's 
nightless  day.  Modifications  of  atmosphere  such  as 
to  counteract  these  violent  changes,  would  involve 
changes,  as  in  case  of  Mercur}^  so  great  as  to  kill 
while  they  cure.  Indeed,  if  Venus  has  any  atmos- 
phere, it  must,  owing  to  its  extreme  variations  of  tem- 
perature, be  the  home  of  incessant  and  furious  tem- 
pests. The  opinion  is  better  established  than  any 
other,  that  Venus  is  destitute  of  water,  and  destitute 
of  atmosphere,  and  that  its  surface  diflcrs  not  much 
from  the  crude  slag  which  is  cast  out  from  glass  man- 
ufactories. 

The  Moon  brings  us  comparatively  near  home  ;  it  is 

*  "This  planet  has  no  temperate  zone.  The  torrid  and  icy 
zones  encroach  the  one  upoii  the  other,  and  rule  successively 
over  the  regions  wliich  in  our  world  constitute  the  temperate 
zone."     M.  Babinet. 


THE    FIELD.  55 

only  thirty  diameters  of  the  earth  distant ;  we  could 
reach  it,  travelling  at  ordinary  railroad  speed,  in  a 
half  year.  Professor  Phillips,  before  the  British  Associ- 
ation, stated  that  spots  only  a  few  hundred  feet  in  area 
could  be  easily  detected.  A  crop  of  wheat  removed 
from  a  field,  or,  as  Herschel  states,  the  construction  or 
the  devastation  of  a  fair-sized  city,  would  be  quickly 
noticed  by  our  astronomers.  Yet  never  a  change  has 
been  observed  upon  its  surface.  One  of  its  hemi- 
spheres is  forever  hidden  from  the  earth,  the  other  is 
continually  looking  down  upon  it.  Its  unchangeable 
features  tell  us  that  never  a  cloud  hangs  in  the  lunar 
sky,  while  the  absence  of  all  refraction  after  the  occul- 
tation  of  star-light,  renders  it  absolutely  certain  that 
the  moon  is  entirely  destitute  of  anything  that  can  be 
called  an  atmosphere.  It  appears  to  be  in  the  same 
advanced  stage,  and  is  probably  identical  in  substance, 
with  aerolites.*  Its  geological  history  has  all  the  in- 
terest of  a  romance.  It  was  once  "  fire-mist,"  or  "  sun- 
stuflT,"  "  star-stufi',"  or  "  world-stuff',"  as  variously 
named,  which  is  probably  the  original  created  sub- 
stance, "  light  "  —  God  said.  Let  there  be  light  (sun- 
stuff'),  and  light  (sun-stuff')  was.  Later  the  moon  wit- 
nessed activities  like  those  now  at  work  in  the  sun.  It 
was  at  that  time  a  world  on  fire,  whose  flames  reached 
far  towards  the  earth  ;  later  the  flames  subsided,  and, 
like  Jupiter  at  the  present  time,  the  moon  became  a 

*  Should  the  moon  fall  towards  the  earth,  it  would  upon 
striking  our  atmosphere  be  ignited  by  friction.  If  consumed 
before  reaching  the  earth's  surface,  it  would  be  a  shooting 
star;  if  it  reached  comparatively  near  us,  it  would  be  a  me- 
teor; if  it  reached  the  earth's  surface,  it  would  be  an  aerolite. 


56         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

bubbling  mass  of  fire,  having  but  slight  illumination ; 
at  this  stage  an  atmosphere  appeared  containing  mois- 
ture ;  *  this  moisture,  condensing  and  falling  upon  the 
surface,  would  be  thrown  off  in  the  form  of  steam  and 
vapor ;  subsequently,  as  the  cooling  process  went  on, 
waters  remained  upon  the  surface,  rivers  flowed  from 
the  mountains  and  emptied  themselves  into  the  lunar 
seas.  In  the  course  of  time  the  moisture  penetrated 
deeper  and  deeper,  the  internal  fires  were  entirely 
quenched,  the  thirsty  rocks  drank  up  every  drop  of 
water,  and  then,  as  if  insatiable,  absorbed  the  very 
atmosphere,  leaving  the  moon  as  we  now  find  it,  a 
home  of  desolation,  an  "  abandoned  camp,"  a  "  fossil 
world,"  an  "  ancient  cinder,"  a  mass  of  rough  slag,t 
whose  reflecting  power  does  not  much  differ  from  that 
of  a  gray,  weathered,  sandstone  rock.  No  atmos- 
phere !  I  No  water !  Beautiful  in  all  its  phases,  hung 
in  the  heavens  to  preach  to  man  of  the  fate  now  im- 
pending over  the  earth  unless  an  infinite  Providence 
shall  cut  short  the  days  of  desolation  by  a  merciful  and 
prophesied  catastrophe. § 

*  It  is  estimated  that  one  eighth  of  the  glowing  hydrogen 
composing  the  flames  of  the  sun  is  convertible  into  pure  water. 

t  Phillips.  X  Zollner,  Bond,  and  Herschel. 

§  See  2  Pet.  iii.  10-14.  It  is  estimated  at  the  present  time, 
owing  to  the  internal  fires  of  the  earth,  that  water  and  air  are 
able  to  penetrate  less  than  one  fiftieth  of  the  distance  to  the 
earth's  centre;  therefore,  long  before  these  fires  are  extin- 
guished, the  terrestrial  water  and  atmosphere,  like  those  of  the 
moon,  will  have  disappeared  from  tlie  surface  of  a  worn-out 
world.  But  for  some  providential  interference  the  fate,  not 
only  of  the  earth,  but  of  all  celestial  bodies,  is  written  upon 
the  face  of  the  moon;  the  sun  itself  will  become  a  hunp  of 
frozen  matter,  darkening  the  heavens. 


THE    FIELD.  ^'J 

We  now  return  to  Mars^  the  planet  which,  for  spe- 
cial reasons,  was  reserved  to  complete  our  list.*  It 
has  been  called  the  miniature  earth.  "  It  is  the  only 
object  in  the  heavens  which  is  known  to  exhibit  fea- 
tures resembling  those  of  our  earth."  f  Its  density, 
the  length  of  its  days,  its  seasons  and  years,  are  not 
widely  different  from  those  of  the  earth.  The  inhab- 
itants of  this  planet  (if  it  is  inhabited)  would  have 
some  advantages  and  some  disadvantages  as  compared 
with  the  earth's  inhabitants.  The  force  of  gravitation, 
being  about  one  half  what  it  is  upon  the  earth,  would 
enable  a  man  weighing  three  or  four  hundred  pounds 
to  easily  leap  upwards  to  the  height  of  five  or  six  feet ; 
this,  in  some  emergencies,  would  doubtless  be  of  advan- 
tage. Another  thing  to  be  noticed  is,  that  navigation 
through  the  air  must  be  made,  upon  this  planet,  the  nor- 
mal method  of  locomotion.  One  could  swim  through 
the  atmosphere  of  Mars,  if  it  has  an  atmosphere  like 
that  of  the  earth,  as  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth  swim 
through  the  waters  of  the  sea ;  this  may  be,  however, 
a  questionable  advantage. 

*  Between  Mars  and  Jupiter  are  twenty-three  small  bodies, 
called  planetoids.  They  were  formerly  supposed  to  be  parts 
of  a  planet  thrown  into  fragments  by  some  internal  or  exter- 
nal force;  more  likely  is  it  that  they  have  never  been  a  sin- 
gle planet,  but  assumed  their  present  dimensions  when  the 
fire-mist  of  the  solar  system  crystallized,  if  this  term  may  be 
allowed.  Some  of  the  planetoids  can  boast  a  diameter  of 
considerable  extent,  though  in  no  case  over  a  few  hundred 
miles,  while  others  are  not  larger  than  a  terrestrial  moun- 
tain. We  need  not  dwell  upon  their  physical  condition,  as 
no  one  is  disposed  to  assign  to  them  inhabitants. 

t  Proctor. 


58         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

But  the  following  serious  discomfitures  must  like- 
wise be  met  with  upon  this  planet.  Its  climate  is  far 
more  rigorous  than  the  earth's,  its  mass  much  less.  It 
is  doubtful  if  there  is  water  upon  it  in  quantities  suffi- 
cient to  produce  a  fog  equal  to  that  which,  upon  an 
autumn  morning,  hangs  over  a  single  American  lake. 
The  dark  spots  mapped  out  and  named  Phillips's  Sea, 
Dawes's  Ocean,  and  the  like,  are  very  far  from  being 
universally  recognized  as  bodies  of  water.* 

Seidel  and  ZoUner  have  arrived  at  the  conclusion, 
after  the  most  careful  observations,  that  the  light  re- 
flected from  this  planet  comes,  not,  as  in  case  of  Jupi- 
ter and  Saturn,  from  an  envelope  of  clouds,  but  almost 
directly,  as  with  the  moon,  from  the  true  surface  of 
the  planet.  Certain  other  scientists,  who  have  given 
the  subject  not  a  little  attention,  claim  that  there  is 
no  satisfactory  evidence  tliat  Mars  has  an  atmos- 
phere of  sufficient  consistency  to  support  any  form 
of  organized  physical  life.  Probabilities  appear  to 
be  assuming  the  character  of  certainty,  that  Mars  is 
already  a  worn-out  world  ;  its  internal  fires  are  nearly 
extinguished ;  its  atmosphere  and  water  are  nearly 
absorbed ;  it  has  reached  its  perpetual  autumn-brown 
hue,  and  is  the  home  of  utter  desolation,  like  that 
which  reigns  upon  the  moon.  With  such  facts  and 
probabilities  before  us,  is  it  not  assumption  to  say  that 
Mars    is    inhabitable  .'*      Nay    more,    with    such    facts 

*  For  a  long  time  the  dark  spots  upon  the  moon  were 
thought  to  be  seas.  "  Sea  of  Serenity,"  "  Sea  of  Crises,"  and 
'*  Sea. of  Humors,"  were  some  of  the  names  given.  It  is  use- 
less to  say  the  names  have  been  dropped,  and  the  former  opin- 
ion discarded. 


THE    FIELD.  59 

before  us,  and  with  the  arguments  from  analogy  and 
the  consistency  of  things  turned  completely  against 
the  supporters  of  a  plurality  of  inhabitable  worlds, 
and  brought  to  bear  with  all  their  force  in  support  of 
the  view  that  the  earth  alone  is  the  seat  of  physical 
and  organized  life,  is  it  not  assumption,  if  not  pre- 
sumption, to  say  that  Mars  is  inhabited  ?  Faced  by  the 
facts  gathered  from  every  region  of  the  physical  uni- 
verse, met  by  adverse  analogies  on  the  right  hand  and 
on  the  left,  and  confronted  by  the  manifest  import  of 
revelation,  we  do  not  see  how  any  one  can  have  rea- 
sonable justification  for  saying  that  Mars  is  an  inhab- 
ited planet  until,  at  least,  balloons  can  be  descried  rising 
in  its  atmosphere,  or  until  ships  can  be  seen  sailing 
across  its  seas,  or  crowds  be  observed  gathering  at  its 
seats  of  empire,  or  armies  be  beheld  marshalling  their 
hostile  forces  in  settlement  of  international  difficulties. 
Strong  and  decisive  probabilities  thus  compel  us  to 
conclude  that  there  is  not  a  plurality  of  inhabited 
worlds  in  the  physical  universe.  We  turn,  therefore, 
with  all  the  more  interest,  to  our  Earth.  We  can  say 
of  it  what  we  are  able  to  say  of  no  other  spot  in  the  I 
universe — it  is  both  inhabitable  and  inhabited.  Sci- 
entific investigation  shows  with  a  remarkable  degree 
of  uniformity,  as  we  have  seen,  that  the  solar  system 
is  the  chief  and  the  most  complete  of  all  similar  sys- 
tems, and  also,  that  the  earth  is  the  only  planet  in 
the  solar  system  known  to  have  conditions  essential 
to  the  existence  of  physical  organisms  ;  namely,  land, 
water,  and  atmosphere,  properly  proportioned  — - 
"  ground  to  stand  upon,  air  to  breathe,  and  water  to 
nourish."     The  earth  seems,  therefore,  if  we  mistake 


6o         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

not,  to  be  the  one  domesticated  hearth-stone  of  the  so- 
lar system.  It  holds  a  central  position  in  the  system 
to  which  it  belongs  ;  it  occupies  the  temperate  zone 
as  to  the  other  planets ;  upon  the  side  next  the  sun 
are  found  the  silence  and  desolation  of  worn-out 
worlds ;  upon  the  side  opposite  are  worlds  for  the 
most  part  so  fresh  from  the  forge  of  the  Infinite  as 
to  be  but  the  abode  of  constant  volcanic  throes  and 
eruiDtions.  The  earth  seems  to  be  the  one  arena  God 
ihas  selected,  upon  which  to  have  wrought  out  some 
jof  the  grandest  problems  that  will  ever  be  submitted 
'to  the  universe. 

The  question,  Why  was  this  little  earth  chosen  for 
such  a  purpose,  instead  of  some  object  of  vaster  pro- 
portions, is  quickly  followed  by  a  question  equally 
pertinent:  Why  should  it  not  have  been  chosen.?  It 
is  as  well  adapted  for  the  purpose  of  developing  hu- 
manity and  displaying  the  providence  of  God  as  any 
other  world  could  be ;  it  is  large  enough  for  that 
purpose,  and  has  a  history  of  sufficient  duration.  It 
is  an  objection  of  no  weight  to  say  that  the  sphere 
is  too  limited  for  an  infinite  God  to  bestow  upon  it 
such  special  attentions.  For  the  physical  universe, 
taken  as  a  whole,  is  not  infinite ;  *  God   must,  thcre- 

*  This  is  easily  shown.  For  if  the  sidereal  system  were 
infinite,  then  the  whole  heavens  would  shine  with  the  bril- 
liancy of  starlight.  This  is  very  far  from  being  the  case. 
There  are  broad  vacant  spaces  in  the  neighborhood  of  all 
nebulas.  "The  access  to  the  nebulcc,"  says  Sir  John  Iler- 
schcl,  *'  is  on  all  sides  through  a  desert."  Each  one  of  these 
deserts  reports  that  tlie  stars,  in  number  and  distance,  are 
finite. 


THE    FIELD.  6l 

fore  bestow  attention  upon  a  part;  it  is  for  him  to 
decide  which  that  part  shall  be.  The  purposes  of 
God  cannot  be  safely  estimated  by  rods  and  furlongs. 
The  earth  is  large  enough  for  him  to  display  upon 
it  infinite  majesty,  and  the  entire  universe  is  to  him 
a  limitation. 

Equally  without  force  is  the  objection  that  God 
would  not  wait  until  a  few  thousand  years  ago  before 
creating  physical  life.  For  why  should  he  not  wait.? 
and  besides  this,  since  he  is  eternal,  the  objection  lies 
with  equal  relevancy  against  any  time  that  might  have 
been  selected ;  it  was  for  him,  and  no  one  else,  to 
decide  the  moment  of  time  at  which  to  call  animate 
or  inanimate  creatures  into  being.  Creation  was  a 
tardy  moment,  in  a  scientific  point  of  view,  whenever 
commenced  or  completed.  But  more  than  this,  anal- 
ogies and  helps  from  every  quarter  come  to  our  sup- 
port in  settlement  of  these  various  questions.  Is  it 
regarded  as  a  needless  consumption  of  time  to  employ 
countless  ages  in  fitting  up  this  earth  for  human 
abodes  ?  Man  is  even  yet  a  geological  novelty  in  this 
world,  whom  no  theory  of  development  can  account 
for.  Myriads  of  years,  also,  and  multitudes  of  differ- 
ent species  of  physical  life  appeared  and  disappeared 
long  times  before  man  came  on  earth  to  admire  them. 
Was  not  such  workmanship  miscalculated  and  abor- 
tive .f*  No  one  answers  the  question  but  with  an  em- 
phatic No.  Everybody  feels  that  the  divine  glory  and 
wisdom  are  not  thereby  brought  into  question.  Nay, 
such  delay  and  condescension  do  not  dethrone  the 
Infinite  One.  The  Deity  can  lie  concealed  in  a  rose- 
bud without  suffering  dishonor.     In  the  unsightly  pool 


62  THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

of  muddy  water  he  has  ofttimes  worked,  precipitating 
therefrom  the  finest  crystals  and  gems.  What  God 
has  in  store,  and  what  he  intends  by  present  proce- 
dures, we  cannot  always  tell ;  his  ways  are  past  find- 
ing out.  He  is  in  no  haste.  He  works  a  twelvemonth 
to  form  a  flower,  which,  unseen  by  human  eye,  with- 
ers the  day  it  blooms.  Some  plants  bud  but  once  in 
a  hundred  years.  He  is  likewise  lavish  of  his  expen- 
ditures even  to  apparent  prodigality.  He  never  minds 
a  few  score  more  than  are  wanted  for  a  purpose.  A 
million  seeds  fall  from  a  tree  when  it  is  the  arrange- 
ment for  but  one  to  take  root ;  and  the  spawn  of  a 
single  fish  numbers  two  hundred  millions.  Of  a  truth, 
we  are  met  here,  there,  and  everywhere  by  assurances 
that  it  is  in  strict  harmony  with  God's  way  to  seem  to 
waste  his  energies  by  hanging  out  this  handsome  "  jew^- 
elry  of  the  stars  "  innumerable,  yet  reserving  but  one  of 
all  the  number  for  habitation.  If  it  is  ordered  that  the 
remaining  part  of  the  physical  universe  shall  be  but 
the  leaves,  the  stems,  the  stocks  of  the  one  ''  fertile  flow- 
er," or  if  it  is  planned  that  the  earth  shall  be  the  one 
physical  "  sanctuary  of  the  universe,"  "  the  Holy  Land 
of  Creation,"  the  scene  of  God's  special  manifestation, 
tlie  one,  among  a  million  others,  around  which  the 
most  vital  interests  are  suspended,  and  connected  with 
which  the  grandest  issues  are  awaited  ;  or  if  it  is  ar- 
ranged that  earthly  humanity  shall  be  the  unique  and 
})cciiliar  child  of  the  physical  universe,  and  that  the 
central  point  of  the  earth's  history  and  of  universal 
history,  shall  be,  and  is,  the  coming  and  life  of  man's 
elder  brother,  who  lived  in  Nazareth  ;  in  fine,  if  the 
scientific  and  the  physical  centres  of  the  universe  shall 


THE    FIELD.  63 

be  found  to  coincide  with  the  theological  centre  as 
revealed  in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  —  even  then  no  form 
of  science  need  take  the  alarm,  for  such  has  been  the 
way  of  the  Infinite  from  the  beginning. 

The  sublime  truths  of  revealed  religion,  in  view  of 
these  considerations,  seem  to  find  new  expression,  and 
come  home  to  us  with  a  wealth  of  suggestion  hereto- 
fore unknown.  The  fundamental  principles  of  Chris- 
tianity hereby  clear  themselves  from  troublesome 
obscurities.  We  can  the  better  understand  why  rev- 
elation places  such  high  distinctions  upon  humanity, 
and  why  the  entire  gulfs  of  stars  seem  to  pale  almost 
into  obscurity  before  one  of  the  little  ones  whom  our 
Saviour  blessed  :  those  children  were  not  made  for 
the  stars,  but  the  stars  for  them  ;  and  when  every  glis- 
tening sun  shall  fall  from  its  place  in  the  sky,  the 
feeblest  child  shall  continue  to  shine  forth,  and  will 
shine  forever  and  ever  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

We  see  also  why  the  Deity  is  so  lavish  of  astro- 
nomical wonders  in  man's  behalf;  nothing  short  of 
stars  enough  to  call  out  human  thought  and  investiga- 
tion until  time  ends,  would  be  enough  ;  it  is  as  if  God 
had  said,  "  Anything  I  can  do  for  man  shall  be  done  ; 
give  him  extent  of  worlds  to  last  him  his  lifetime,  and 
sufficient  to  tax  his  skill  and  invention  to  the  utmost." 
What  if  God  has  made  the  stars  in  number  such  that 
they  appear  as  '' silver  sand"  and  "  dianiond  dust;" 
he  who  has  given  us  his  Son,  shall  he  not  with  liim 
freely  give  us  all  things? 

It  is  clear,  also,  why  the  present  period,  throughout 
the  material  universe  is,   so  far  as  the  nature  of  the 

It  is  God's  Sabbath  time. 


64         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

The  changes  known  to  be  taking  place  are  not  new 
creations  ;  all  things  are  pointing  to  decay  and  death. 
The  workshop  of  the  Almighty,  his  forge  and  pro- 
ductions, are  cooling  otT;  no  sounds  of  the  bellows  or 
anvil  are  heard.  It  is  as  if,  six  thousand  years  ago, 
when  humanity  was  brought  forth,  the  Creator  had 
commanded  the  intelligent  universe  to  pause,  and  do 
nought  else  save  to  w\atch  human  development,  and 
take  note  of  the  princes  and  kings  as  they  shall  prove 
themselves  worthy  of  sceptres  and  thrones. 

The  consistency  of  things  requires,  also,  that  other 
changes  respecting  the  arena  of  human  development 
shall  one  day  be  wrought  out.  When  man's  earthly 
life  terminates,  the  physical  universe  will  have  no  fur- 
ther end  to  subserve  ;  it  shall  be  dissolved  ;  *  and  then 
will  have  come  the  last  epoch  of  the  physical  universe, 
and  the  story  of  its  history  and  existence  will  have  been 
told.f      But  in  this  dissolution   are  involved  changes 

*  2  Pet.  iii.  10-13. 

t  The  history  of  the  physical  universe  can  now  be  read 
with  an  accuracy  scarcely  less  than  that  with  which  the  geo- 
logical history  of  the  earth  is  examined.  In  general,  "  stellar 
geology,"  as  the  science  is  called,  divides  the  history  of  the 
natural  universe  into  the  following  periods  :  — 

I.  The  Epoch  of  Light.  Some  part  of  the  divine  energy 
•was  at  this  period  converted  into  perfect  physical  lumination, 
which  was  homogeneous,  but  which  contained,  perhaps,  the 
elements  or  basis  of  the  material  part  of  the  physical  universe. 

II.  The  Epoch  of  Mineral  Mist.  The  mass  of  lumination 
passed  into  a  degree  of  heterogcncousness ;  the  solid  light 
became  points  of  light. 

III.  The  Epoch  of  Condensation.  The  mineral  mist,  at 
this  stage,  became  luminous  liquid,   with   manifest  tenden- 


THE    FIELD.  6^ 

such  as  befit  human  destiny ;  universal  decay  and  cor- 
ruption are  to  put  on  incorruption ;  the  earthy  is  to 
become  heavenly,  and  the  natural  is  to  become  spirit- 
ual.* Science  has  no  word  to  speak  against  these 
changes.  It  is  now  shown  that  planets  and  suns,  if  } 
suddenly  arrested,  would  be  converted  into  terrific  con- 1  j 
flagrations.  Everj^thing  is  now  proved  to  be  converti- 
ble into  any  or  everything  else.  Heat  and  motion  are 
interchangeable  quantities.  Diamonds  and  charcoal 
are  equivalents.     "  Flowers  are  but  earth  vivified."  f 

cies  towards  assuming  spherical  forms,  together  with  spiral 
motions. 

IV.  The  Solar  Epoch.  The  liquid  mass  became  of  such  con- 
sistency as  to  shape  itself  into  globes  of  solid  fire,  surrounded 
by  a  blazing  photosphere ;  the  largest  body  in  a  given  system 
becoming  the  centre  of  an  organized  system  of  worlds. 

V.  The  Planetary  Epoch.  This  may  be  subdivided  into 
three  stages,  (i.)  The  preparatory  stage.  The  luminous 
fires  were  extinguished ;  periodic  revolution  was  established  ; 
crusts  formed ;  waters  fell  as  now  upon  Jupiter,  and  later  as 
during  the  earth's  period  of  rain;  and  geological  history  was 
brought  on  towards  completion.  (2.)  The  stage  of  culmina- 
tion. This  stage  presents  all  the  phases  of  physical  geogra- 
phy, as  now  displayed  upon  the  earth.  (3.)  The  stage  of 
desolation.  The  internal  fires  are  completely  or  nearly  ex- 
tinguished ;  the  waters  and  atmosphere  are  absorbed,  and 
the  period  of  utter  darkness  and  universal  refrigeration  is 
ushered  in. 

VI.  We  add  upon  Bible  authority  the  Epoch  of  Spiritualiza- 
tion.  The  phj'sical  universe  will  be  arrested  in  its  motion  by 
the  hand  that  first  gave  it  movement;  instantly  every  orb 
will  be  again  in  flames ;  all  things  will  be  changed  in  a  mo- 
ment, and  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye ;  and  the  phj'sical  uni- 
verse will  be  succeeded  by  the  spiritual. 

*  I  Cor.  XV.  46,  49,  53.  t  Lamartine. 

5 


66 


THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 


"  And  I  saw  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth :  for 
the  first  heaven  and  the  first  earth  were  passed  away  ; 
and  there  was  no  more  sea.  And  I  John  saw  the 
holy  city,  new  Jerusalem,  coming  down  from  God  out 
of  heaven,  prepared  as  a  bride  adorned  for  her  hus- 
band. And  I  heard  a  great  voice  out  of  heaven, 
saying,  Behold,  the  tabernacle  of  God  is  with  men, 
and  he  will  dwell  with  them,  and  they  shall  be  his 
people,  and  God  himself  shall  be  with  them,  and  be 
their  God.  And  God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from 
their  eyes ;  and  there  shall  be  no  more  death,  neither 
sorrow,  nor  crying,  neither  shall  there  be  any  more 
pain  ;  for  the  former  things  are  passed  away."  * 

*  Rev.  xxi.  1-4. 


THE   DEFEAT 


His  eye  no  more  looked  onward,  but  its  gaze 

Rests  where  remorse  a  life  misspent  surveys. 

By  the  dark  shape  of  what  he  zs,  serene 

Stands  the  bright  ghost  of  what  he  might  have  been; 

Here  the  vast  loss,  and  there  the  worthless  gain,  — 

Vice  scorned,  yet  wooed,  and  Virtue  loved  in  vain. 

BULWER. 

What  more,  O  Avarice,  canst  thou  do  to  us. 
Since  thou  my  blood  so  to  thyself  hast  drawn, 
It  careth  not  for  its  own  proper  flesh.?    Dante. 

"  Little  sins  are  pioneers  of  hell." 

The  sea  of  this  world  hides  so  many  rocks  that  a  vessel 
whose  rudder  is  not  in  the  hand  of  Wisdom  must  of  necessity 
soon  suffer  shipwreck.     Hengstenberg. 

The  great  art  of  life  is  to  play  for  much  and  stake  but  little. 

Johnson. 

Sin  is  a  sweet  poison ;  it  tickleth  while  it  stabbeth.  The 
first  thing  that  sin  doth  is  to  bewitch,  then  to  put  out  the 
eyes,  then  to  take  away  the  sense  and  feeling;  to  do  to  a  man 
as  Lot's  daughters  did  to  him,  make  him  drunk,  and  then  he 
doth  he  knoweth  not  what.  As  Joab  came  with  a  kind  salute 
to  Abner  and  thrust  him  under  the  fifth  rib,  while  Abner 
thought  of  nothing  but  kindness,  so  sin  comes  smiling,  comes 
pleasing  and  humoring  thee,  while  it  giveth  thee  a  deadly 
stab.     Anthony  Burgess. 

No  man  can  be  stark  nought  at  once.  Let  us  stop  the 
progress  of  sin  in  our  soul  at  the  first  stage,  for  the  farther  it 
goes  the  faster  it  will  increase.     Fuller. 

As  sins  proceed  they  ever  multiply,  and  like  figures  in 
arithmetic,  the  last  stands  for  more  than  all  that  went  before 
it.     Sir  Thomas  Browne. 

69 


My  lord  cardinal  [Cardinal  Richelieu],  there  is  one  fact 
which  jou  seem  to  have  entirely  forgotten.  God  is  a  sure 
paymaster.  He  may  not  pay  at  the  end  of  the  week,  month, 
or  year;  but  I  charge  you  remember  that  he  pays  in  the  end. 

Anne  of  Austria. 

Nothing  is  more  common  than  for  great  thieves  to  ride  in 
triumph  where  small  ones  are  punished.  But  let  wickedness 
escape  as  it  may,  at  the  last  it  never  fails  of  doing  itself  jus- 
tice;  for  every  guilty  person  is  his  own  hangman.     Seneca. 

In  general,  treachery,  though  at  first  sufficiently  cautious, 
yet  in  the  end  betrays  itself.     LiVY. 

Extreme  avarice  almost  always  makes  mistakes.  There  is 
no  passion  that  oftener  misses  its  aim,  nor  on  which  the 
present  has  so  much  influence  in  prejudice  of  the  future. 

Rochefoucauld. 

Use  sin  as  it  will  use  you ;  spare  it  not,  for  it  will  not  spare 
you  ;  it  is  your  murderer  and  the  murderer  of  the  whole  world. 
Use  it,  therefore,  as  a  murderer  should  be  used ;  kill  it  before 
it  kills  you;  and  though  it  bring  you  to  the  grave,  as  it  did 
your  head,  it  shall  not  be  able  to  keep  you  there.  You  love 
not  death;  love  not  the  cause  of  death.     Baxter. 

Suicide  is  a  crime  most  revolting  to  the  feelings;  nor  does 
any  reason  suggest  itself  to  our  understanding  by  which  it 
can  be  justified.     Napoleon. 

70 


THE    DEFEAT 


EVERY  man's  life  ends  in  defeat  or  triumph. 
Those  who  suffer  final  defeat  may  have  gained, 
meantime,  some  single  and  signal  victories ;  while 
those  who  achieve  a  final  triumph  may  have  met, 
early  in  the  contest,  many  a  rough  defeat. 

Illustrative  of  each  of  these  classes  we  take  two 
characters,  familiar  to  all  readers  of  the  Sacred  Scrip- 
tures, both  of  which  are  as  apt  examples  for  our  pur- 
pose as  any  others  therein  recorded. 

Judas,  the  apostate,  is  a  name,  as  It  seems  to  us, 
synonymous  with  the  word  defeat.  Little  is  known 
of  his  early  life  ;  so  little,  indeed,  that  nothing  can  be 
said.  This  is  true  of  almost  every  biblical  character. 
We  find  the  various  contestants  in  Scripture  history 
struggling  in  their  vigorous  manhood  ;  in  that  struggle, 
and  not  in  their  birth,  or  their  youth,  is  involved  their 
final  defeat  or  triumph,  though  birth  and  youth  may 
have  had  much  to  do  therewith.* 

*  Legend  tells  us  that  Judas  was  a  foredoomed  wretch, 
whose  mother  received  a  warning  of  what  he  would  be,  in  a 
dream,  before  his  birth.  To  avoid  this,  his  parents  enclosed 
him  in  a  chest,  and  plunged  him  into  the  sea.     The  sea  cast 

71 


72         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

After  the  mere  mention  of  the  name  of  Judas,  and 
his  call  to  the  apostleship,  he  comes  first  into  notice  at 
a  festival  in  Bethany,  at  the  house  of  Simon  the  leper. 
The  circumstances  attending  this  gathering  are  of 
interest.  It  was  the  evening  of  the  day  on  which  our 
Lord  had  arrived  in  that  village  from  a  season  of  re- 
tirement in  the  country  near  Ephraim.  The  inhab- 
itants of  Bethany  were  filled  with  delight,  "  and," 
says  the  sacred  record,  "  there  they  made  him  a  sup- 
per." It  was  similar  to  the  complimentary  entertain- 
ments of  modern  times  given  in  honor  of  distinguished 
guests.  This  efibrt  on  the  part  of  these  humble  people 
was  an  expression  of  hearts  beating  with  love  and  ado- 
ration for  a  friend  who  was  more  than  brother. 

Of  those  present  some  are  specially  worthy  of  men- 
tion. He,  for  instance,  who  was  master  of  the  house, 
Simon,  bearing  the  surname  "  Leper."  He  had  once 
been  afflicted  with  that  terrible  disease,  which.no  phy- 
sician could  heal.  He  had  been  obliged  to  utter  the 
mournful  cry,  "  Unclean,  unclean  !  "  as  a  warning  to 

him  upon  the  shore  in  the  domain  of  a  king  and  queen,  who 
adopted  him  as  their  own  son.  Malignant  from  his  birth,  he 
killed  a  foster-brother,  and  fled  to  Judea,  and  became  a  page  to 
Pontius  Pilate.  He  committed  many  monstrous  crimes,  was 
at  length  filled  with  contrition  and  terror,  and  fled  to  Christ 
for  peace.  Thenceforward  the  account  agrees  with  the  New 
Testament  narrative.  After  the  betrayal,  despair  came  and 
offered  him  choice  of  weapons  of  destruction,  and  he  chose 
the  rope  and  hung  himself.  At  his  death  his  evil  genius  seized 
the  broken  rope,  and  dragged  him  down  to  the  seething 
abyss  below.  At  his  approach  hell  sent  forth  a  shout  of  joy. 
Lucifer  smoothed  his  pain-racked  brow,  and  from  his  burn- 
ing throne  welcomed  a  greater  sinner  than  himself. 


THE   DEFEAT.  73 

those  who  approached  him.  But  upon  the  night  in 
question  he  was  a  well  man.  The  ugly  spots  had 
gone,  and  his  skin  was  like  that  of  a  child.  A  monu- 
ment was  he  and  a  glad  witness  for  Ilim  who  had 
pronounced  the  almighty  words,  "  Be  clean'' 

There  was  another  person  in  the  guest  chamber 
especially  deserving  mention.  He  was  a  young  man 
who,  a  few  months  before  this,  had  been  enshrouded 
and  borne  to  the  tomb,  surrounded  by  his  weeping  sis- 
ters and  a  sympathizing  community.  No  citizen  of 
Bethany  doubted  his  death  and  burial.  But  in  obedi- 
ence to  a  single  command  from  his  divine  Friend,  he 
came  forth  from  the  tomb  ;  the  aspect  of  death  had 
disappeared ;  the  breeze  from  the  hill-side  blew  off 
the  smell  of  the  grave ;  and  he  returned  with  his 
friends,  and  helped  remove  from  his  home  the  sym- 
bols and  emblems  of  his  own  funeral.  And  with  all 
these  things  Judas  was  perfectly  familiar. 

The  presence  of  Mary,  the  sister  of  Lazarus,  at  this 
entertainment,  cannot  be  overlooked,  for  she  played 
no  unimportant  part.*  Entering  the  chamber  during 
the  festivities,  she  quietly  approached  the  one  in 
whose  honor  the  feast  was  spread.  Gratitude,  vener- 
ation, and  I  love  were  in  her  heart.  At  a  moment  when 
least  observed,  the  devoted  woman  broke  the  seal  of  a 
well-closed  alabaster  box  of  pure  oil  of  spikenard, 
very  costly ;  with  lavish  hand  she  poured  the  whole 
of  it  upon  the  head  of  Jesus,  and  upon  his  feet,  and 
then  knelt  and  wiped  his  feet  with  her  loosened 
tresses.     The  house  was  filled  with  fragrance.     This 

♦  Matt.  xxvi.  6-9.    Mark  xiv.  3-5.    John  xii.  2-4. 


74         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

tribute  was  more  suggestive  than  Mary  knew.  It 
appears  upon  the  surface  to  be  an  act  of  gratitude 
done  by  a  simple-hearted,  loving  woman,  to  one  who 
had  pardoned  her  sins,  told  her  of  heaven,  and  raised 
to  life  her  dead  brother  ;  but  it  was  more  than  that. 
It  was  also  a  prophetic  tribute  ;  it  was  a  memorial, 
which,  wherever  the  gospel  is  preached,  shall  be  told 
of  her.  In  all  the  remotest  regions  of  the  world,  and 
in  the  latest  ages  of  time,  this  shall  be  told,  that 
Jesus  died  "  in  the  fragrant  odors  of  this  dear  wo- 
man's love." 

But  one  tliere  was  in  that  company  who  did  not 
enjoy  the  fragrance  of  spikenard.  There  are  such, — 
those,  we  mean,  who  enjoy  nothing  unless  inaugurat- 
ed by  themselves,  or  unless  it  contributes  directly  to 
their  desires  or  purposes.  With  such  very  little  in 
this  world  is  exactly  right ;  no  morning  is  without  its 
cloud,  and  the  most  finished  picture  is  a  daub,  and 
the  whitest  marble  has  its  flaws.  How  little  such 
men  suspect  that  the  flaw  is  in  their  own  souls  !  How 
much  like  the  waves  of  the  troubled  sea  do  hearts  like 
that  of  Judas  cast  up  mire  and  dirt ! 

This  dissatisfied  and  restless  man  quickly,  but  qui- 
etly and  artfully,  circulated  among  his  fellow-disciples 
the  plausible  inquiry,  ''  Why  was  not  this  ointment 
sold  for  three  hundred  pence,  and  given  to  the  poor?* 

By  his  remarkable  power  of  eloquence,  his  profound 
respect  for  religion,  his  reverence  for  the  teachings  of 
the  Master,  his  sober  conversation,  together  with  his 
plausible  address,  his  unbounded  sympathy  and  benev^ 

*  John  xii.  5. 


THE    DEFEAT.  75 

olent  appeal,  Judas  inaugurated  disaffection,  and  com- 
pletely misled  the  body  of  the  disciples.  For  the 
moment  they  were  fastened  in  the  same  snare  that 
held  him,  and  we  hear  them  also  inquiring,  "  To 
wdiat  purpose  is  this  waste?  for  this  ointment  might 
have  been  sold  for  much,  and  given  to  the  poor." 
"  And  they  murmured  against  her."  *  How  success- 
fully had  this  festal  scene  been  converted  into  an  hour 
of  temptation,  and  the  pure  offering  of  a  loving  heart 
into  an  offence  I 

But  Jesus  was  moved  by  this  act  of  the  woman. 
Of  himself  and  the  dishonor  done  him  personally  by 
these  murmurings  he  said  nothing ;  it  grieved  him  to 
the  quick,  nevertheless,  that  the  woman  had  been  so 
badly  and  unkindly  used  ;  like  a  faithful  advocate  he 
appeared  at  once  in  her  defence.  "  Trouble  her  not," 
he  said,  "for  this"  (following  the  original)  "is  a 
beautiful  work  which  she  hath  wrought."  f 

Such  were  the   gentle   words  which    silenced   the 

*  Matt  xxvi.  8,  9.     Mark  xiv.  6,  9. 

t  Matt.  xxvi.  10-13.  Mark  xiv.  6-9.  John  xii.  7,  8.  Alford 
makes  an  excellent  observation  upon  this  prophecy  of  Christ. 
*'We  cannot  but  be  struck  with  the  majesty  of  this  prophetic 
announcement,  introduced  with  the  pecuhar  and  weighty 
aiiii,v  Xiyia  vj^dv,  conveying,  hy  implication,  the  whole  mystery 
of  the  tvay/iXiov  which  should  go  forth  from  his  death,  as 
its  source,  looking  forward  to  the  end  of  time,  when  it  shall 
have  been  preached  in  the  whole  world,  and  specifying 
the  fact  that  this  deed  should  be  recorded  wherever  it  is 
preached."  He  sees  in  this  announcement  a  distinct  prophet- 
ic recognition  of  the  existence  of  vjritten  gospel  records,  by 
means  of  which  alone  the  deed  related  could  be  universally 
proclaimed. 


76         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

murmurings  of  the  disciples,  or  changed  them  into 
praise  and  comphmcnt,  and  fully  restored  confidence 
to  the  distressed  woman's  heart.  But  he  who  had  oc- 
casioned this  disturbance  was  exasperated ;  he  felt, 
without  the  least  occasion  for  it,  that  a  personal  wrong 
had  been  done  him  ;  in  consequence,  he  began  at  once 
to  dally  with  thoughts  of  treachery,  and  took  the  pre- 
liminary steps  in  the  ways  of  treason. 

He  was  likewise  much  provoked  because  he  had 
not  so  well  succeeded  as  he  had  planned.  Something, 
of  course,  is  wrong  upon  the  face  of  his  transactions. 
His  conduct  and  words  were  the  expression  of  benev- 
olence, but  his  heart  appears  to  be  the  home  of  self- 
ishness. The  inspired  writer  leaves  us  not  long  in 
doubt,  but  explores  and  explodes,  in  a  word,  this  pre- 
tended piety  and  professed  regard  for  the  poor,  and 
gives  us  a  clew  by  which  henceforth  we  may  follow 
this  sower  of  dissensions :  "  This  he  said,  not  that  he 
cared  for  the  jooor,  but  because  he  was  a  thief,  and 
had  the  bag,  and  bare  what  was  put  therein."  *  This 
man  had  been  preaching  up  benevolence,  it  thus 
appears,  with  the  hidden  intention  of  making  some- 
thing handsome  out  of  it  for  himself.  Of  such  perfidy 
was  his  heart  fully  capable.  This  apostle  was  simply 
a  hypocrite.  lie  had  shown  talent,  he  had  exerted  a 
controlling  influence,  but  it  is  ordained  from  the  be- 
ginning that  a  hypocrite  cannot  long  triumph  in  his 
hypocrisy.  As  Judas  withdrew  we  discover  tliat  de- 
feat already  has  been  written  upon  his  leading  pur- 
pose. Iniquity  gains  much,  but  rarely  the  thing 
wanted,  and  never  the  thing  best. 

*  John  xii.  6. 


THE    DEFEAT.  77 

Now  fairly  introduced  to  Judas,  we  may  follow  him 
a  step  farther.  Jerusalem  is  west  of  Bethany  a  dis- 
tance of  a  trifle  less  than  two  miles,  the  Mount  of 
Olives  standing  between.  Thither  Judas,  as  he  left 
the  feast  chamber,  directed  his  steps.  As  he  reached 
the  summit  of  the  Mount  of  Olives,  the  scene  under 
the  clear  sky  and  full  moon  of  that  evening  must  have 
been  enchanting.  At  the  foot  of  the  mount,  looking 
westward,  was  the  valley  of  Jehoshaphat ;  beyond  was 
Jerusalem  ;  to  the  south  of  the  city  lay  the  valley  of 
Hinnom,  which,  extending  east  and  west,  united  with 
the  valley  of  Jehoshaphat  at  a  point  south-east  of  the 
city.  The  bluffs  on  either  side  these  valleys,  at  their 
junction,  are  from  twenty-five  to  forty  feet  in  height. 
In  the  time  of  our  Saviour  they  were  in  excellent  state 
of  cultivation,  and  richly  clothed  with  vineyards  and 
olive  trees.  On  the  left,  passing  up  Hinnom,  was  the 
Hill  of  lEvil  Counsel,  on  which  was  the  Potters'  Field, 
afterwards  purchased  with  the  thirty  bloody  pieces  of 
silver.  Opposite  this,  tov^ards  the  city,  in  full  view 
from  the  position  we  now  occupy  on  the  summit  of 
the  Mount  of  Olives,  was  a  spot  of  land  which  was 
replete  with  interest  to  Judas ;  he  owned  it.  He 
paused  to  look  upon  it  a  moment  before  descending  to 
the  city.  He  might  have  reasoned  thus :  That  is 
mine.  What  if  Christ  and  his  otlier  followers  go  to 
wreck  and  ruin  ;  I  am  safe.  Let  them  waste  the  oint- 
ment if  they  like  ;    that  spot  of  land  will  support  me. 

Indeed,  that  was  a  choice  lot,  one  of  the  best  in  the 
environs  of  the  entire  city.  It  commanded  a  view  of 
both  these  important  valleys  referred  to ;  it  looked 
upon  Mount  Zion,  the  Mount  of  Olives,  and  two  other 


78-         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

important  elevations,  since  known  as  the  Mounts  of 
Offence  and  Evil  Counsel ;  it  was  at  that  time  plenti- 
fully irrigated  by  water  drawn  from  the  Pool  of  Sil- 
oam.  Yes,  Judas  was  a  sharp,  shrewd  man,  and  a 
sharp,  shrewd  buyer.  No  one  could  overreach  him, 
and  no  good  bargain  in  Jerusalem  would  escape  his 
notice.  He  was  a  provident  man,  as  the  world  would 
say  ;  in  case  of  a  failure  on  the  part  of  Christ  and  his 
mission,  Judas  had  taken  the  precaution  to  make  these 
suitable  provisions  for  himself  and  family.* 

And  notice,  that  these  ample  provisions  had  been 
made  even  though  the  conditions  of  discipleship  re- 
quired that  all  things  should  be  given  up,  —  real 
estate  with  personal  property,  —  and  the  whole  turned 
over  into  the  common  treasury.  It  had  proved  peril- 
ous in  one  instance,  at  least,  not  to  do  this  much.! 
But  Judas  had  done  much  worse;  he  was  not  only  a 
deceiver  and  a  h}pocrile,  but  a  defaulter  ;  he  was  a 
thief;  nay,  the  worst  kind  of  a  thief.  The  gifts  of 
friends,  in  some  instances  the  gifts  of  poor  people, 
given  to  Jesus  by  way  of  expressing  their  love,  in- 
trusted to  Judas,  the  treasurer  of  the  company,  —  even 
these  he  had  purloined  from  the  bag,  and  with  this 
doubly  consecrated  money  had  purchased  this  sjDlendid 
suburban  estate,  to  which  he  could  retire  when  the 
mission   of  Jesus    was    accomplished. J      But    all    this 

*  The  psal'.n  supposed  to  be  written  descriptive  of  tiic  be- 
trayer mentions  the  fact  of  both  wife  and  children.  — Psahn 
cix.    Acts  i.  20. 

t  Acts  V.   I -1 2. 

X  "  Now  this  man  purchased  a  field  with  the  reward  of  ini- 
quity."   Acts  i.  18.     This  was  purchased,  not  with  the  money 


THE    DEFEAT.  79 

could  not  have  been  so  successfully  accomplished 
unless  Judas  had  been  far  above  the  average  of  men. 
No  one  could  have  managed  his  aftliirs  as  these  were 
managed,  have  covered  up  his  steps  with  such  skil- 
ful tact,  and  have  escaped  the  suspicion  of  every  one 
of  his  companions,  even  to  the  last,  of  being  any- 
thing other  than  a  man  of  superior  devotion  and  un- 
questioned integrity,  unless  by  the  aid  of  positive 
intellectual  ability.  It  always  takes  about  twice  the 
amount  of  brains  to  gain  an  end  dishonestly  that  it 
does  to  gain  it  honestly. 

Judas  was  also  perfectly  self-confident,  yet  with  a 
show  of  modesty.  He  was  smart ;  he  knew  it.  He 
had  his  abilities  under  perfect  self-control,  and  always, 
somehow,  skilfully  managed  them  in  his  own  personal 
interest. 

By  universal  consent  the  money  was  intrusted  en- 
tirely to  his  care  and  disposal ;  his  accounts  were, 
perhaps,  never  questioned  or  audited.  His  hand  was 
always  upon  the  sails  when  they  needed  reefing.  His 
ability  would  have  been  acknowledged  and  his  influ- 
ence instantly  felt  in  any  position.  Public  responsi- 
bility, from  which  others  shrank,  he  would  have  easily 
borne.  His  occasional  pilfering  and  thieving  tended 
to  make  him  more  and  more  subtle,  shrewd,  artful,  and 
cautious.     He  never  allowed  himself  to  be  pent  up  or 

which  was  thrown  at  the  feet  of  the  priests  in  the  temple; 
that  went  to  buy  the  Potters'  Field,  on  the  Mount  of  Evil 
Counsel  (Matt,  xxvii.  6-10)  ;  but  this  field  opposite  was  the 
purchase  of  money  stolen.  We  can  now  see  why,  at  the  sup- 
per in  Bethany,  this  man  had  pleaded  so  zealously  for  the 
poor.  , 


8o         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

hemmed  into  close  quarters,  such  that  his  genius  could 
find  no  way  out.  No  one  plays  the  Judas  adroitly  and 
to  the  purpose  unless  he  is  a  man  of  much  mind. 
Common  men  become  petty  villains  ;  real  talent  will 
not  stoop  to  steal  old  junk  or  clothes-pins  ;  it  strikes 
rather  for  the  most  that  can  be  reached. 

Does  it  not  sometimes  appear  that  those  men  and 
women  of  any  community  who  are  serving  the  tables 
of  worldly  pleasure  with  the  greatest  devotion  are 
more  talented  than  those  who  are  in  the  service  of  the 
church?  This  is  not  always  the  case;  but  frequently 
does  it  not  so  ajopcar?  The  smartest  men  everywhere 
are  the  meanest.  Had  the  talents  of  some  of  the  lewd- 
est women  been  consecrated  to  God,  they  would,  by 
universal  consent,  have  occuj^ied  the  first  ranks  in 
society. 

But  it  is  well  to  note  that  bad  men,  who  are  very 
smart,  are  very  fiir  from  smart  in  one  thing  —  this, 
that  they  do  not  see  that  it  is  exceedingly  foolish  and 
short-sighted  to  do  wrong  instead  of  right.  The  cheat 
smiles  that  he  has  cheated  another,  not  thinking  how 
fearfully  he  has  cheated  himself.  How  cheaply  most 
such  sell  themselves!  "Smart,  but  foolish,"  is  an 
epitaph  suitable  for  more  gravestones  than  one. 

Notice  another  thing.  Judas  was  never  rash,  like  the 
other  disciples,  but  always  cool  and  self-collected.  He 
wore,  perhaps,  no  better  clotlics  than  did  his  compan- 
ions, but  was,  we  suspect,  always  in  better  trim.  He 
was  one  of  those  slick,  smooth  men,  who  ever  have 
for  you  a  smile  ;  but  it  is  well  not  to  take  too  much 
stock  in  some  men's  smiles  ;  a  man's  face  is  part  of 
his  stock  in  trade.     The  aflability  of  Judas  allbrdcd  a 


THE    DEFEAT.  8l 

cloak  of  completest  protection.  The  wolf  could  be 
detected  by  no  ordinary  observation.  He  was  so 
agreeable  and  apparently  disinterested,  that  half  the 
world,  for  want  of  better  discernment,  would  have 
thought  him  the  politest  of  gentlemen.  He  knew  in 
all  company  how  best  to  deport  himself.  His  want  of 
gallantry  was  completely  veiled  under  a  hypocritical 
display  of  manners.  Politeness  is  genuine  kindness  of 
heart;  of  this  Judas  was  utterly  destitute.  He  was  as 
ungentlemanly  as  he  was  base.  He  could  cast,  with- 
out hesitation,  a  burden  of  disquietude  and  confusion 
upon  the  spirit  of  that  devoted  woman  who  honored 
Christ  with  her  costly  sacrifice.  Was  that  politeness  ? 
What  cared  he  for  Mary's  heart?  It  was  only  a  few 
ounces  of  flesh.  If  he  had  broken  it  or  crushed  it  to 
atoms,  while  clutching  for  the  three  hundred  pence, 
it  would  not  have  troubled  him.  Such  affable  men, 
wherever  met,  are  not  gentlemen.  When  the  poor 
woman  and  the  shop-worn  girl  cry  out  that  their 
hearts  and  lives  are  crushed  between  the  pavement 
and  the  feet  of  that  man  who  in  many  a  circle  passes 
for  a  gentleman,  nothing  more  need  be  said  ;  God's 
judgment  cannot  give  a  more  inevitable  lie  to  all  such 
false  pretensions.  One  who  abuses  another  is  not  a 
gentleman  ;  one  who  lives  on  other  folks'  money,  or 
lives  extravagantly,  if  he  does  not  pay  his  debts,  is  not 
a  gentleman  ;  nay,  one  who  in  any  way  appropriates 
to  his  own  use  what  belongs  to  another  is  not  a  gen- 
tleman ;  he  is  a  reckless-man. 

We  parted  company  with  Judas  upon  the  Mount  of 
Olives,  where  he  was  congratulating  himself  upon  his 
successful  transactions.     Under  his  eye  was  that  mag- 
6 


82         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

nificent  plot  of  ground  ;  let  us  look  well  to  that  plot 
of  grozind^  for  wc  shall  have  sad  and  special  occasion 
to  revisit  it  anon. 

It  must  have  been  quite  late,  perhaps  near  midnight, 
when  Judas  reached  the  outer  gate,  upon  the  eastern 
side  of  the  city.  Making  known  his  mission  to  the 
guard,  he  was  at  once  admitted,  and  accompanied  to 
the  temple.  At  tliat  hour  silence  reigned  in  all  its 
outer  courts.  The  cloisters  and  halls  which,  during 
the  day,  were  thronged  with  w^orshippers,  were  now 
deserted  and  empty.  The  night  wind  swept  through 
those  cloistered  aisles,  meeting  nought  unusual  save 
this  one  restless  and  sleepless  adventurer.  The  watch- 
stars  from  above  seemed  to  look  down  upon  this  soli- 
tary visitant  with  strange  inquiries.  The  moon  was  in 
her  full,  and  the  sky  was  cloudless.  How  sublimely 
grand  must  the  temple  have  then  appeared  to  this  dis- 
ciple of  Jesus  !  The  great  blocks  of  fine  white  marble 
were  joined  together  with  such  perfect  skill  that  no 
seam  could  be  traced.  The  building  had  the  appear- 
ance of  having  been  cut  into  its  present  shape  out  of 
one  solid  block  of  marble.  In  the  distance,  on  ap- 
proaching the  city,  it  resembled  a  mountain  of  snow. 
How  imposing  the  sight  to  this  one,  who  for  three  years 
had  dwelt  with  Ilim  who  was  more  homeless  than  the 
bird  of  the    air   and   the   fox  of  the   hill-side. 

Over  the  porch  of  the  court  of  the  priests,  encircling 
the  pillars,  was  a  vine  made  of  solid  gold,  hung  with 
golden  grapes,  whose  clusters  were  of  the  size  of  a 
man.  Heavy  plates  of  gold  covered  this  entrance  to 
the  temple,  reflecting  the  moonlight,  and  making 
every  object  visible.     Look   now  upon   this  defaulter 


THE    DEFEAT.  83 

and  intentional  betrayer,  as  he  passed  through  those 
empty  but  majestic  temple  courts ;  he  entered  at  the 
gate  called,  Beautiful ;  he  had  often  entered  it  be- 
fore ;  he  231'oceeded  onv/ard  through  the  Court  of 
the  Gentiles,  and  up  the  nineteen  steps  to  the  Court 
of  the  Israelites,  where  he  asked  audience  of  the 
priests  then  on  duty.  They  proflered  him  immediate 
hearing,  and  he  was  requested  to  make  known  his 
mission.  He  broke  the  silence  with  the  question, 
''  What  will  ye  give  me,  and  I  will  deliver  him  unto 
you  ?  "  Ah,  that  was  a  fatal  question.  It  was  a  ro\igh, 
heartless,  slave-vender's  question.  This  man  huck- 
sters for  a  price  upon  the  head  of  the  priceless.  He 
barters  for  blood.  "  And  when  they  heard  it,"  says 
Mark,  "  they  were  glad."  Glad  !  What  a  beautiful 
word !  How  it  wells  up  from  childhood !  Soiled 
henceforth  is  that  word. 

What  had  troubled  these  men  was  this :  they  feared 
the  common  people.  They  could  not  arrest  Christ 
except  in  their  absence.  They  therefore  needed  for 
a  guide  one  who  was  well  acquainted  with  all  the 
private  resorts  of  our  Saviour ;  here  was  their  man. 
How  providential.?  An  uproar  among  the  people  can 
now  be  prevented.  They  deliberated,  gave  explana- 
tions, and  offered  thirty  pieces  of  silver. 

Doubtless  for  such  signal  service  Judas  had  expect- 
ed a  much  larger  sum.  But  they  made  it  clear  to 
him  why  they  could  not  consistently  give  more  than 
the  price  stipulated.  They  did  not  wish  to  recognize 
in  Christ  anything  but  the  meanest  specimen  of  hu- 
manity. The  current  price  of  a  common  slave  was 
thirty  pieces  of  silver.*    Judas  saw  the  force  of  their 

*  About  tifteen  duilare* 


84         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

reasoning.  He  was  helped  likewise  to  see  the  force 
of  other  things.  He  felt,  doubtless,  that  all  hope  of 
promotion,  shoidd  he  remain  with  the  company  of  the 
disciples,  was  at  an  end.  His  Master  would  neither 
employ  the  enthusiasm  of  the  people  nor  his  miracu- 
lous powers  to  secure  temporal  position.  Wh}^  follow 
him  longer.?  * 

Judas  also  remembered  the  slight  he  had  received ; 
and  his  peculiar  estimate  of  such  a  slight  would  not 
allow  him  to  brook  it.  He  felt,  for  the  moment,  as  he 
ascended  those  temple  steps,  that  he  was  not  the  man 
to  receive  a  personal  rebuff  from  that  Nazarene,  whom 
the  devil  made  him  now  look  upon,  not  as  the  Messiah, 
Sut  as  only  a  Rabbi. 

In  addition  to  this,  the  scene  at  Bethany  presented 
to  his  mind  only  a  wasteful  company,  in  which  all 
things  were  going  to  dissolution.     Those  former  dreams 

*  The  heart  of  Judas  had  probably  been  not  exactly  right 
from  the  beginning,  and  his  talents  were  consequently  use- 
less for  any  great  purpose.  It  is  only  sanctified  talent  that 
is  better  than  no  talent.  The  less  a  wicked  man  knows,  the 
better.  The  appearance  of  Christ,  the  glory  of  his  marvel- 
lous deeds,  and  the  expectation  of  universal  dominion  subject 
to  his  control,  had  attracted  this  man  from  Kerioth.  He 
made  an  accurate  estimate  of  those  things.  "  He  swore  fealty 
to  the  ba?i7ier,  but  not  to  the  Inimiliatioyi^  of  Christ."  Judas 
may  not  at  first  have  been  consciously  a  hypocrite.  He  very 
likely  for  a  time  played  the  part  of  a  disciple  with  a  com- 
mendable degree  of  outward  and  inward  truthfulness.  He 
probably  did  not  at  first  pretend  much  more  than  did  others. 
He,  with  others,  followed  Jesus  politically,  and  with  no  deeper 
or  higher  motives  than  a  longing  for  the  realization  of  those 
earthly  and  enchanting  ideas  which  his  lively  imagination 
had  depicted  to  him. 


THE    DEFEAT.  8^ 

of  his  had  been  dashed  to  the  ground.  Now,  here, 
in  the  temple,  was  the  place  and  the  opportunity  for 
restoring  what  seemed  lost.  With  these  rulers,  with 
whom  he  was  holding  this  midnight  interview,  was 
authority,  which  his  Master  seemed  not  to  have ; 
wealth  and  power  were  there,  but  belonged  not  to 
his  Master.  He  thought,  too,  that  his  Master  was  ter- 
ribly extravagant.  To  a  man  constituted  like  Judas 
he  did  ofttimes  seem  thus.  It  was  not  at  the  Bethany 
supper  alone  that  the  avarice  of  Judas  had  discovered 
what  seemed  to  be,  on  the  part  of  our  Saviour,  a 
needless  and  careless  expenditure  of  property,  but 
elsewhere  he  had  seen  the  same  thing  without  under- 
standing its  purport.  He  saw  property  wasted  as  if  it 
had  cost  nothing,  and  since  it  was  being  squandered 
so  carelessly,  why  could  he  not  take  his  share? 

Besides  all  this,  he  had  estimated  his  own  talents. 
He  had  reckoned  that  as  he  was  of  more  service  to 
the  Master  than  the  rest  of  his  followers,  he  was  con- 
sequently entitled  to  extra  compensation.  No  burden 
was  so  great  and  important  as  his.  Why  should  he  not 
receive  somewhat  extra  therefor?  and  by  making  these 
appropriations  quietly,  instead  of  publicly,  he  could  pre- 
vent, on  the  part  of  his  fellow-disciples,  all  complaint. 
There  was  policy  in  his  method,  and  also  justice,  as 
he  thought.  Three  years  had  been  wasted.  Three 
years  were  of  value  to  him.  If,  then,  his  hopes  of  pro- 
motion were  gone,  might  he  not  still  remain  and 
pocket  what  he  could  ?  By  taking  only  half  the  re- 
ceipts he  would  save  to  the  Master  more  than  any  one 
else.  Might  he  not  turn  his  ov/n  receipts  to  as  good 
use   as  anyone  else?     Thus,  in  a  hundred  and  one 


86  THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

ways,  Judas  had  been  quieting  his  conscience  and 
excusing  himself,  until  he  could  frame  an  excuse  for 
the  most  daring  impiety.  So  can  any  man.  But  the 
old  adage  tells  us  a  plain  truth.  He  that  excuses 
himself  in  any  act  is  at  the  same  moment  his  own 
acctiser. 

Self-excusinsf  and  the  grand  scenes  surrounding: 
Judas  had  thus  accomplished  their  work.  He  was 
mentally  intoxicated  ;  rather  exhilarated.  How  insig- 
nificant the  festal  chamber  in  Bethany,  in  comparison 
with  what  then  blinded  his  eye  and  tempted  his  heart ! 
There,  in  that  temple  and  with  those  priests,  were 
wealth  and  power.  Those  temple  officials  guarded 
immense  treasures ;  thousands  were  nothing  to  them, 
while  small  amounts  of  money  for  present  needs,  the 
gifts  of  charity,  which  could  be  carried  from  place  to 
place  in  a  bag,  constituted  his  Master's  possessions. 
If  not  now,  the  time  may  come,  he  reasoned,  when 
these  men  and  their  wealth  will  be  of  service  ;  I  shall 
be  their  guest  in  all  the  future  ;  *  my  standing  as  a 
citizen  depends  upon  breaking  from  Jesus,  and  form- 
ing a  confederacy  with  these  rulers.  His  silence  in 
view  of  their  proposition  became  oppressive.  Each 
minute's  delay  seemed  an  hour.  Why  delay?  Yes, 
Judas,  why  delay?  Take  the  thirty  pieces;  they  will 
be  all  you  can  receive,  and  all  the  priests  will  give  ; 
for  these  are  the  words  of  the  old  prophet :  "  vSo  they 
weighed  for  my  ]:)ricc  thirty  pieces  of  sil\^er."t 

*  In  this  Judas  must  take  his  chances;  they  arc,  under  like 
circumstances,  more  often  adverse  than  otherwise.  Ilail  lel- 
lows  are  not  always  well  met. 

t  Zech.  xi.  12.     In  view  of  what   has   now  been   said,   the 


THE    DEFEAT.  87 

With  these  terms  the  bargain  was  closed,  and  Jesus 
was  sold  for  exactl}^  one  third  the  price  of  the  oint- 
ment, by  the  very  man  who  grumbled  against  the 
woman  who  had  poured  it  as  an  anointing  upon  the 
devoted  head  of  our  Saviour  ;  whilst  if  Judas  could 
have  sold  that  offering  of  devotion,  he  would  have 
stolen  its  price,  have  added  it  to  his  other  thefts,  and 
then  have  absconded  with  the  whole. 

The  next  scene  to  which  the  inspired  writers  intro- 
duce us  is  in  a  guest-chamber  in  the  city  of  Jerusalem. 
The  time  was  the  evening  of  the  first  day  of  unleav- 
ened bread  ;  consequentl}^  four  days  have  intervened 
since  we  left  the  festal  scene  in  Bethany.  How  that 
time  was  passed  by  Judas  we  are  not  informed.  Upon 
this  evening  the  Bethany  friends  of  our  Lord  did  not 
appear.  Martha  was  not  needed  to  serve  the  Master, 
nor  Mary  to  anoint  him,  nor  Lazarus  and  Simon  to 
witness  for  hira  ;  these  services  had  been  already  well 
performed.  None  but  his  disciples  were  present.  We 
first  look  in  upon  a  supper  which  preceded  the  institu- 
tion of  the  Lord's  Supper  ;  no  chair  was  at  that  time 
vacant ;  no  face  was  especially  downcast ;  from  pres- 
ent appearances  one  would  suspect  no  lurking  wrong. 
But  a  man  was  there  who  had  already  bargained  to 
sell  his  Master  for  the  price  of  a  slave. 

point  raised  bj  Story,  that  the  bribe  was  too  small  to  move 

Judas,  seems  answered.     It  is  stated  thus  :  — 

*'  Does  not  the  bribe  seem  all  too  small  and  mean.? 
He  held  the  common  purse,  and,  were  he  thief, 
Had  daily  power  to  steal,  and  lay  aside 
A  secret  and  accumulating  fund  ; 
So  doing,  he  had  nothing  risked  of  fame, 
While  here  he  braved  the  scorn  of  all  the  world." 


88         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

How  Judas  could  have  braved  it  sufficiently  to 
come,  after  that  transaction  in  the  temple,  sit  down 
with  his  Master,  and  eat  the  paschal  supper,  as  if  noth- 
ing were  in  his  heart  but  good  intentions  and  wishes, 
is  almost  beyond  conjecture.  But  he  was  a  man  of 
consummate  coolness.* 

Pictures  representing  the  "Lord's  Supper"  present 
twelve  disciples  with  their  Master.  One  sitting  near 
our  Lord  is  represented  of  dark  complexion,  having  a 
morose  expression,  mingled  with  satanic  hate  and  re- 
venge. These  representations  involve  two  important 
mistakes.  First,  there  were  but  eleven  disciples  at 
the  Lord's  Supper.  This  feast  of  which  we  are 
now  speaking  was  a  preliminary  entertainment,  —  the 
paschal  supper,  at  which  Judas  was  present ;  he  retired 
before  the  institution  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  Second, 
he  wore,  on  that  occasion,  anything  but  a  malignant 
face.  We  doubt  if  he  was  of  dark  comj^lexion.  No 
one  smiled  more  frequently,  conversed  more  freely, 
appeared  easier  in  his  movements,  or  occasioned  less 
suspicion  among  his  fellows. 

As  treasurer  of  the  company,  and  on  account  of  his 
commanding;  influence,  Judas  took  a  position  next  the 
Master,  a  privilege  that  none  disputed.     With  a  trifling 

*  We  say,  without  entering  into  any  lengthy  discussion, 
that  the  presence  of  Judas  at  this  supper  table,  after  the 
transaction  with  the  priests  in  the  temple,  betokens  as  heart- 
less pcrfidv,  as  diabolical  hypocrisy  and  treachery  as  can  be 
found  on  record ;  and  those  who  have  attempted  to  palliate 
the  guilt  of  Judas  —  De  Qiiincoy  and  Archbishop  Whatelj, 
for  illustration  —  have  in  nothing  else  been  more  unsuccess- 
ful.    See  also  Appendix  G. 


THE    DEFEAT. 


difference  growing  out  of  the  question  among  certain 
others,  in  which  Judas  was  in  no  wise  engaged,  as  to 
*'  who  shall  be  the  greatest,"  which  was  easily  si- 
lenced by  our  Saviour,  the  scene,  at  first,  was  one. of 
appareitt  joy  and  happiness.  But  a  cloud  rested, 
during  this  interview,  upon  the  mind  of  our  Saviour. 
He  knew  the  whole  ;  the  past  and  the  future  were  fully 
disclosed  to  his  eye,  as  were,  likewise,  all  the  hearts 
in  that  company ;  and  he  knew,  among  other  things, 
that  there  was  one  of  that  number  who  was,  and  had 
been,  at  heart  a  devil. 

Pertinent,  perhaps,  is  the  question,  at  this  point,  Who 
made  Judas  to  differ  from  his  fellow-disciples  ?  There 
can  be  but  one  reply.  God  makes  men  intellectually 
and  circumstantially  different,  but  the  use  each  one 
makes  of  his  talents  and  surroundings  involves  in 
every  case  personal  responsibility.  God  gave  Judas 
superior  abilities,  but,  contrary  to  his  deeper  convic- 
tions of  right  and  duty,  he  prostituted  them.  Clearly, 
then,  he  was  responsible.  His  natural  ability  was 
such  as  to  raise  him  very  high  or  sink  him  very  low. 
The  antithesis  of  character  is  left,  ultimately,  to  per- 
sonal choice.  There  had  been  offered  to  each  disciple 
the  same  gospel  ;  each  had  felt  the  Spirit's  influence ; 
each  had  possessed  the  same  gracious  opportunities  ; 
the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil  had  addressed  the 
heart  of  each  ;  each,  in  fine,  had  been  subjected  to 
peculiar  temptations  and  peculiar  allurements.  But 
the  other  disciples  had  chosen  Christ,  and  commenced 
their  ascent  to  heaven  ;  this  reprobate  had  chosen  the 
world,  and  had  descended,  and  was  continuing  to  de- 
scend to  the  kingdom  of  Satan. 


90         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

What  is  true  in  these  instances  is  true  of  all  others. 
All  men  are  responsible  parties  in  every  transaction. 
No  one  can  shift  his  responsibility  upon  any  one  else. 
There  is  no  man,  however  low  he  has  fallen,  but 
knows,  whatever  his  case  may  be  to-day,  that  the  time 
has  been  when  he  could  have,  and  when  he  felt  he 
ought  to  have,  chosen  the  path  of  holiness  and  heaven. 
Our  antecedents  certainly  have  much  to  do  with  us; 
but  despite  antecedents,  we  can  resist  the  devil  if  we 
will ;  in  that  are  involved  the  sublimest  resistance  and 
grandest  conquest.  Some  of  those  whose  antecedents 
have  been  as  black  as  one  can  well  picture,  have  been 
governed  by  purposes  based  upon  the  highest  integrity, 
and  have,  nevertheless,  become  the  most  honored  instru- 
ments in  God's  service.  Moral  differences  are  always 
optional ;  else  we  are  not  men,  but  machines.  Tre- 
mendous, therefore,  are  the  powers  intrusted  to  every 
man  ;  and  great  is  the  fall  of  that  man's  house  who 
builds   upon  sand. 

The  day  had  been  when,  in  the  innocence  of  child- 
hood, Judas  had  sported  on  the  hills  of  Kerioth,  which 
were  almost  within  sight  from  the  Mount  of  Olives. 
He  was  the  hope  and  confidence  of  parents  and 
friends.  A  promising  youth  he  must  have  been.  But 
he  had  one  point  of  danger  and  exposure.  Satan 
could  overthrow  him,  if  at  all,  by  bringing  everything 
to  bear  upon  that  point;  and  at  that  point,  witiiout  a 
double  guard,  Satan  could  overthrow  iiim.  But  Judas, 
in  this  respect,  was  no  worse  than  others.  Every 
man  has  his  weak  point  of  character;  some  one 
where  and  respecting  one  thing  ;  others  another 
where  and  respecting  something  else.     It  has  come  to 


THE    DEFEAT.  9I 

be  an  adage  that  every  man  has  his  price,  at  which 
Satan  can  buy  him.  And  Satan  knows  enough  not  to 
make  great  bids  for  small  returns.  He  can  better 
afford  to  plot  twenty  years  for  the  overthrow  of  a  great 
sou]  than  contrive  a  single  day  to  entangle  one  who  is 
not  much.  Luther,  Paul,  our  Saviour,  what  assaults 
they  received  !  When  one  is  severely  tempted  by  the 
devil,  a  compliment  is  paid.  The  devil  strikes  07tly^ 
we  were  about  to  say,  for  the  best ;  he  seems  to  let 
the  half-wits  go  ;  but  Christ  strikes  for  all,  rank  and 
file ;  *  to  him  all  souls  are  equally  dear  and  alike 
precious. 

The  basis  of  an  avaricious  character  was  born  in 
Judas ;  this  was  his  weakness,  —  his  easily  beset- 
ting sin,  —  and  Satan  knew  it.  Properly  controlled, 
however,  and  sanctified,  this  disposition  would  have 
proved  a  benefit  to  the  world  and  the  church.  It 
w^ould  have  led  him  to  gather  up  the  fragments,  that 
nothing  be  lost,  that  the  whole  might  be  consecrated 
to  God.  As  it  was,  however,  this  element  of  charac- 
ter became  the  source  of  danger ;  he  kept  yielding 
imtil  avarice  became  a  ruling  passion.  It  was  love  of 
gain  that  kept  him  from  going  back,  when  "  many 
went  back,  and  walked  no  more  with  him"  (Christ). 

*  But  the  results  are  widely  opposite  in  the  two  opposite 
cases.  Those  who  accept  Christ,  he  inspires  with  his  own 
life,  and  they  at  length  are  able  to  confound  the  unsanctified 
wisdom  of  the  world.  Those  of  many  accomplishments,  on 
the  other  hand,  whom  the  devil  deceives,  he  at  length 
plunges  into  disgrace  and  ruin.  It  is  thus  that  the  first 
often  become  last,  and  the  last  first.  In  the  end  God  will 
have  the  best  troops  in  the  field,  and  will  keep  in  advance  of 
Satan. 


92         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

It  was  not  carrying  the  bag  while  he  followed  the 
Master,  but,  at  length,  following  the  Master  that  he 
might  carry  the  bag  and  pilfer  from  it,  that  made 
Judas  a  thief  and  a  hireling.  He  might  have  carried 
the  bag  with  the  same  devotion  that  others  carried  the 
cross,  if  he  had  been  so  disposed.  It  was,  doubtless, 
however,  a  very  hazardous  thing  for  Judas  to  hear  the 
clink  of  coin,  when  he  saw  that  all  hope  of  promotion 
from  the  position  of  bag-carrier  among  that  company 
of  Galileans  to  the  emoluments  of  lord  high  treasurer 
of  the  new  kingdom  of  Israel,  was  at  an  end.  As  he 
saw  Christ,  day  by  day,  yielding  up  every  opportunity 
of  establishing  a  kingdom,  and  of  gratifying  the  golden 
hopes  of  his  followers,  and  as  he  began  to  suspect  that 
Christ's  kingdom  was  not  to  be  temporal,  but  spiritual 
(which  fiict  seemed  to  have  been  apprehended  by 
Judas  sooner  tiian  by  any  other  disciple),  the  money 
was  no  longer  safe  in  his  hands.  Some  men  are  so 
constituted  that  they  had  better  never  expose  them- 
selves to  the  dangers  and  temptations  of  handling 
other  men's  money.  Such  was  Judas,  and  many 
other  such  there  are  who  had  better  seek  other  em- 
ployment. Much  depends  upon  adaptation  between 
employment  and  constitutional  characteristics.  If  a 
man  puts  himself  in  the  teeth  of  danger,  the  chances 
are,  that  in  the  same  hour  of  his  venture,  occasions, 
impulses,  and  circumstances  will  conspire  against  him  ; 
and  unless  there  is  a  double  guard  at  the  point  of 
weakness,  also  the  defence  of  previous  resistance,  the 
victim  is  surely  ruined  ;  then  shall  be  seen,  not  what  a 
day,  but  what  an  hour  and  even  a  moment,  can  bring 
forth. 


THE    DEFEAT.  93 

Pertinent,  also,  is  another  question  :  Why  was  Judas 
selected  for  this  position,  and  why  was  he  allowed  to 
hold  it,  if  Christ  knew  all  ?  *  Truly  it  seems  a  terri- 
ble dispensation  by  which  God  did,  in  this  case,  and 
does,  also,  in  other  cases,  allow  wicked  men  to  minister 
in  holy  things.  How  strange  that  a  wolf  dressed  in 
black  is  allowed  sometimes  to  occupy  a  pulpit!  But 
is  any  injustice  done  such  characters  if  God  does  not 
at  once  strike  them  with  a  thunderbolt,  rather  than 
leave  them  to  a  gradual  exposure  and  a  no  less  terri- 
ble doom?  In  the  instance  before  us,  we  suspect  that 
Judas  was  hardly  selected  for  the  place  he  filled,  but 
that  he  got  himself  the  place.  He  was  an  office- 
seeker,  the  last,  of  all  men,  fit  for  office,  but  the  men 
who  somehow  often  obtain  the  office  they  desire. 
God  allowed  such  disposal  of  events  eighteen  hundred 
years  ago,  and  allows  it  still. 

But  why  allow  Judas  to  hold  the  position  ?  We  do  not 
know.  This  case  of  Judas  is  only  one  of  a  thousand. 
The  moment  any  defaulter  commences  his  course,  why 
does  not  Providence  arrest  his  steps  or  depose  him  from 

*  Story  states  this  point  strongly:  — 

*' Besides,  why  chose  they  for  their  almoner 
A  man  so  lost  to  shame,  so  foul  with  greed? 
Or  why,  from  some  five-score  of  trusted  men, 
Choose  him  as  one  apostle  among  twelve? 
Or  why,  if  he  were  known  to  be  so  vile 
(And  who  can  hide  his  baseness  at  all  times?), 
Keep  him  in  close  communion  to  the  last? 
Nought  in  his  previous  life,  or  acts,  or  words, 
Shows  this  consummate  villain,  that,  full-grown, 
Leaps  all  at  once  to  such  a  height  of  crime." 


94         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

his  position  of  trust?  It  does  not.  Our  Saviour  did  in 
the  case  of  Judas  as  God  now  often  does  in  the  case  of 
sinful  men  ;  he  employed  all  possible  means  to  win  back 
the  rebel  heart,  though  knowing  full  well  that  none  of 
them  would  avail.  Events  must  be  so  ordered  that 
every  mouth  shall  be  stopped  in  the  day  of  judgment, 
and  all  things  will  then  disclose  that  God  has  done 
the  best  he  could  under  the  circumstances,  in  every 
individual  case,  to  bless  and  redeem. 

It  would,  of  course,  have  been  just  for  Christ  ab- 
ruptly to  have  exposed  this  traitor,  and  have  disgraced 
him  in  the  presence  of  his  fellow-disci^oles.  But  he 
did  not.  He  treated  him  kindly.  What  could  have 
succeeded  if  not  kindness.''  He  knelt,  at  their  last 
meeting  but  one,  and  bathed  that  disciple's  feet.  How 
could  Judas  have  escaped,  at  that  moment,  a  twinge 
of  remorse  ?  Peter,  under  his  personal  sense  of  un- 
worthiness,  exclaimed,  as  our  Lord  approached  him 
with  towel  and  bowl,  "  Thou  shalt  never  wash  my 
feet."  But  this  complacent  hypocrite,  defaulter,  and 
traitor  allowed  the  act  without  objection  or  hesitation. 

He  was  also  admitted  into  the  nearest  and  most  in- 
timate relationship.  He  was  intrusted  with  the  most 
important  office.  What,  that  could  be,  was  not  done 
for  Judas?  He  listened  daily  to  the  instructions,  coun- 
sels, and  prayers  of  his  Master.  Some  of  the  teach- 
ings of  our  Lord  were  presented  in  such  a  way  as 
seemingly  to  have  been  given  especially  to  overcome 
the  constitutional  failing  of  Judas.  The  contrast  be- 
tween the  service  of  God  and  Mainmon,  the  discourse 
on  the  dcceitfulness  of  riches,  the  proverb  of  the  camel 
and  the  eye  of  the  needle,  the  parable  of  the  rich  but 


THE    DEFEAT.  95 

foolish  man,  and  the  requirements  made  upon  the 
young  ruler,  must  have  fallen  upon  this  man's  heart 
as  though  they  had  been  chiefly  or  solely  meant  for 
him.  If  he  would  have  yielded  to  the  truth  under 
any  circumstances,  it  would  have  been  while  thus 
associated  with  Christ ;  but  men  are  sometimes  slain 
upon  the  steps  of  the  temple.  It  was  not  necessary 
for  Judas,  because  he  was  treasurer,  to  betray  his  Mas- 
ter. He  did  that  voluntarily.  Those  talents  of  his, 
had  they  been  consecrated,  —  there  was  no  reason  why 
they  should  not  have  been, — would  have  immortalized 
him,  and  have  given  him  one  of  the  highest  positions 
among  his  fellows.  Yes,  everything  was  done  that 
could  be  done,  in  consistency  with  his  freedom,  to  save 
this  wayward  disciple,  but  he  would  not ;  therefore  — 
But  aside  from  no  injustice  done,  there  was  a  di- 
vine purpose  in  allowing  Judas  to  pursue  his  course 
and  hold  his  position.  He  thereby  became  the  spy 
whom  Christ  had  permitted  to  remain  among  the  dis- 
ciples, even  after  repeated  thefts.  He  was  the  devil's 
tool,  but  the  world's  witness  to  the  integrity  and  hon- 
esty of  this  company  which  was  led  by  Jesus.  If  there 
had  been  fraud  anywhere,  it  would  have  been  in 
the  department  of  the  treasury.  If  Christ  had  been 
an  impostor,  he  would  have  winked  at  certain  irreg- 
ularities, and  have  connived  with  his  treasurer.  But 
this  sharp-eyed,  shrewd  man,  the  sharpest  and  the 
shrewdest  of  the  twelve,  at  length  confessed  to  the 
rulers  that  Jesus  was  faultless  and  pure.  Important, 
indeed,  was  it,  if  Judas  was  bent  upon  a  dishonest 
course,  that  he  had  been  permitted  to  carry  the  bag. 
A  Pharaoh  was  he  in  accomplishing  divine  purposes. 


96         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

The  wrath  of  man  will  always  work  out  the  praise 
of  God.     God  rules,  the  devil  tries  to. 

"And  as  they  did  eat,"  continues  the  narrative, 
"Jesus  said,  Behold,  the  hand  of  him  that  betrayeth 
me  is  with  me  on  the  table."  *  Eleven  of  that  com- 
pany were  terror-struck ;  one  only  remained  cool  and 
self-composed.  They  looked  upon  one  another  in 
amazement.  The  question  flew  from  mouth  to  mouth, 
**  Lord,  is  it  I  .? "  "Is  it  I.?"  "Isitl.?"t  No  one 
there  bore  the  face  of  a  traitor.  Each,  for  the  moment, 
thought  not  of  his  neighbor,  but  of  himself  j  Yet  that 
man,  who  knew  more  than  the  others,  who  had  already 
agreed  to  the  betrayal,  remained  silent,  and  doubtless 
his  fellow-disciples  mistook  his  silence  for  conscious 
integrity. 

Our  Lord,  perceiving  that  no  effect  was  produced 
upon  the  insensibility  of  Judas  by  this  indefinite  inti- 
mation, and  being  still  desirous  of  reaching  his  heart, 
narrowed  the  group,  and  said,  "  He  that  dippeth  his 
hand  with  me  in  the  dish,  the  same  shall  betray 
me."  §  And  still  we  read  that  "  the  disciples  looked 
one  on  another,  doubting  of  whom  he  spake."  But 
Judas  had  meanwhile  unwittingly  betrayed  himself, 
by  an  act  which  seems  to  have  been  unobserved  by 
any  of  his  fellow-disciples. 

The  Master,  it  is  well  known,  was  the  proper  dis- 
penser of  the  food  at  the  table.  But,  in  an  unguarded 
moment,  Judas  had  dipped  in  the  dish  where  no  one 

*  Matt.  xxvi.  21,  22.  Mark  xiv.  18,  19.  Luke  xxii.  21,  23. 
John  xiii.  21,  22. 

t  Matt.  xxvi.  22.     Mark  xiv.  19. 

X  John  xiii.  22.  §  Matt.  xxvi.  23. 


THE    DEFEAT.  97 

else  would  have,  and  where  no  other  one  save  the 
Master  ought  to  have  dipped  the  ladle.  It  was  an 
accident.  Judas  did  not  intend  to  be  discourteous. 
He  meant  to  have  received  the  portion  allotted  to  him, 
as  did  the  others  ;  but  unconsciously  the  speaking  hand 
betrayed  the  traitor,*  and  forthwith  our  Saviour  added, 
"  The  Son  of  man  indeed  goeth,  as  it  is  written  of 
him,  but  woe  to  the  man  by  whom  the  Son  of  man  is 
betrayed  !  Good  were  it  for  that  vian  if  he  had  never 
been  born."t 

What  an  appalling  denunciation  !  Kind  invitations 
and  offices  having  failed,  our  Lord  sought  to  awaken 
the  slumbering  conscience  of  this  follower  by  tearing 
from  before  his  eyes  the  mask  with  which  Satan  had 
so  successfully  blinded  him. 

Why  stands  not  Judas  pale  as  a  corpse  .f* 

How  heedlessly  men  sometimes  thrust  aside  the  de- 

*  "It  is  a  psychological  fact,"  says  Lange,  "that  an  evil 
conscience  will  betray  itself  in  the  hand,  at  the  very  motnent 
when  one  succeeds  in  showing  a  hypocritical  face,  full  of 
innocence  and  calmness." 

Mr.  Webster  was  once  examining  a  witness,  whose  story, 
under  direct  and  cross  examination,  had  been  unusually 
clear  and  explicit.  There  was  no  deviation,  in  sentence  or 
word.  The  testimony  could  not  be  broken  or  impeached. 
The  witness  was  perfectly  composed,  and  his  voice  not  the 
least  tremulous.  But  Mr.  Webster  had  noticed  that,  in  an 
unguarded  moment,  the  witness's  hand  had  wandered  to  his 
side  pocket,  and  was  quickly  withdrawn.  Whereupon  Mr. 
Webster  sprang  to  his  feet  with  the  force  of  a  giant,  and  witli 
the  voice  of  a  lion  exclaimed,  "Out  with  it,  sir!"  and  the 
affrighted  witness  drew  from  his  pocket  the  testimony  he  had 
given,  carefully  written  in  the  hand  of  the  opposing  counsel. 

t  Matt.  xxvi.  24.     Mark  xiv.  21. 

7 


98         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

nunciations  of  God's  word,  and  the  deep  convictions 
of  their  souls ! 

There  is  a  kind  of  doom  in  the  words  '•'•that  man;^^ 
they  dismiss  the  traitor.  He  is  to  be  henceforth  a 
stranger.  "  That  7?ia7i"  not  a  disciple.  "  That  man," 
equivalent  to  "  I  know  not  whence  thou  art ;  "  "  De- 
part from  me,"  "  Worker  of  iniquity." 

"  It  were  good  for  that  man  if  he  had  never  been 
bor?z"  But  eternity  is  so  long,  and  heaven  is  so 
glorious,  that  if  a  man  should  suffer  a  million  ages, 
and  then  be  restored,  were  it  not  better  that  he  had 
been  born }     Yes,  —  if  he  could  be  restored. 

This  was  no  cant  saying  on  the  lips  of  Christ.  He 
often  spoke  as  if  he  knew  that  there  is  a  fire  which 
w^ill  never  be  quenched.  Nor  is  this  the  language  of 
rage ;  it  is  the  announcement  of  one  whose  heart 
bleeds  at  being  obliged  to  pronounce  it.  Our  Lord 
was  always  calm  when  he  spoke  of  retribution.  His 
voice  never  trembled  with  uncertainty,  and  his  vision 
was  not  limited,  but  his  eye,  undimmed,  pierced  both 
the  glory  and  the  gloom  of  endless  ages.  Who,  after 
listening  to  his  words,  will  dare  face  death  unpre- 
pared } 

Why  falls  not  the  traitor  at  the  feet  of  the  Master, 
imploring  escape  from  such  dreadful  doom.^  Alas! 
how  successfully  Satan  befools  and  befogs  the  mind 
that  yields  to  him  !  How  deaf  the  ear  that  heard  not 
those  terrible  maledictions  !  There  sat  that  insensible 
and  guilty  apostate  unmoved,  thinking  of  his  bargain 
with  the  rulers,  and  of  the  coming  opportunity  to  be- 
tray his  Master,  and  of  his  suburban  j^lot  of  ground, 
where  he  was  to  pass  his  future  years,  and  fare  sump- 


THE    DEFEAT.  99 

tuously  every  day.  "  Thou  fool^  this  night  thy  soul 
shall  be  required  of  thee." 

John  at  length  asked  Christ  plainly  who  it  was  that 
should  betray  him,  for  as  yet  no  one  knew  save  the 
betrayed  and  the  betrayer.  Jesus  answered,  "  He  it  is 
to  whom  I  shall  give  a  sop,  when  I  have  dipped  it." 
And  when  he  had  dipped  the  sop,  when  every  eye 
was  fixed,  wdien  every  breath  was  hushed,  when 
every  heart  had  almost  for  the  moment  forgotten  to 
beat,  "  he  gave  it  to  Judas  Iscariot,  the  son  of  Simon," 
thereby  fulfilling  the  Scripture,  "  If  thine  enemy  hun- 
ger, feed  him." 

Then  it  was  that  Judas  for  the  first  time  broke  the 
silence,  and  with  all  the  surprise  of  injured  innocence 
inquired  —  what.?  "Is  it  I.''"  Our  Saviour  made  a 
simple  affirmative  reply  —  "  Thou  hast  said  it."  *  John 
adds,  "  And  after  the  sop,  Satan  entered  into  him." 
Then  said  Jesus,  "  What  thou  doest,  do  quickly. 
Now,  no  man  at  the  table  knew  for  what  intent  he 
spake  this  unto  him.  For  some  of  them  thought, 
because  Judas  had  the  bag,  that  Jesus  had  said  unto 
him,  Buy  those  things  that  we  have  need  of  against 
the  feast ;  or,  that  he  should  give  something  to  the 
poor.  He  then,  having  received  the  sop,"  glided  out, 
like  a  serpent,  into  the  darkness  ;  "  and  it  was  night."  f 
No  wonder ! 

Judas  had  the  effrontery,  as  he  left,  to  take  with 
him  the  treasures  of  the  company  ;  he  had  the  money, 
the  whole  of  it.  He  could  now  make  his  last  pay- 
ment for  the  land,  if  it  had  not  already  been  paid  for ; 

*  Matt.  xxvi.  25.  t  John  xiii.  26-30. 


lOO         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

we  suspect  it  had  been  ;  he  was  not  the  man  to  run 
much  in  debt ;  or  he  could  now  secure  the  adjoining 
lot —  the  ambition  of  every  land-owner.  But  '' wliat 
shall  it  profit  a  man  if  he  shall  gain  the  whole  world, 
and  lose  his  own  soul.?"  The  hour  of  mercy  expired  ; 
the  Holy  Ghost  withdrew  ;  Satan  triumphed  ;  and  a 
professor  of  religion,  a  preacher,  an  apostle,  one  of 
the  twelve,  completed  the  climax  of  iniquity ;  the 
deceiver,  the  hypocrite,  the  defaulter,  and  the  traitor 
stands  before  us,  possessed  of  the  devil. 

Be  not  startled.  This  is  not  an  extinct  species  of 
madness.  Now,  as  of  yore,  the  devil  possesses  men. 
It  is  a  proud  record  of  the  church,  that  its  members 
are  so  largely  prevented  from  falling  into  this  condi- 
tion, and  from  committing  appalling  crimes.  The 
Knapps,  Crowninshields,  Greens,  Websters,  Evanses, 
and  the  like,  were  not  professors  of  religion.  Still, 
exceptions  do  appear.  Deacon  Samuel  Andrews,  the 
Kingston  murderer,  was  an  office-bearer  in  the  church. 
Satan  had  worked  much  the  same  with  him  as  with 
Judas.  Andrews  had  for  years  tampered  with  vice. 
Hid  in  his  house,  concealed  in  his  barn,  buried  in  his 
cellar,  were  found  various  articles  stolen  from  con- 
fiding neighbors.  He  had  played  the  fatal  game  with 
his  soul's  enemy  for  small  stakes,  and  had  been  per- 
mitted to  \\k\.  He  was  then  allured  on  to  greater 
risks.  He  walked  in  the  cemetery  with  Holmes. 
He  had,  before  this,  brooded  over  crime.  He  had 
more  than  once  dallied  with  thoughts  of  murder. 
Holmes,  at  that  time,  had  money  about  him  ;  not 
much  ;  only  six  hundred  dollars.  But  Andrews's 
blood   was  hot.     It    had  been  heating   for  the    deed. 


THE    DEFEAT.  lOI 

There  are  twenty  thousand  more  for  him  in  the  will. 
Why  wait  for  natural  death  ?  Passion  became  master. 
A  strange  fire  gleamed  from  his  eyes,  a  stranger  mad- 
ness was  enthroned  in  his  heart.  A  stone  at  his  feet 
was  seized,  a  blow  given,  and  all  was  over ;  for  the 
devil  had  taken  possession  of  his  victim. 

There  are  castles  whose  walls  you  partially  descend 
by  many  steps.  You  reach  a  last  one,  followed,  you 
naturally  expect,  by  another,  which  you  attempt  to 
take  ;  but  a  sheer,  smooth  wall  plunges  you  instantly 
into  a  stepless  and  deadly  abyss  below.  "  After  I 
threw  the  first  stone,  which  stunned  him,"  says  An- 
drews, "  I  knew  nothing  more  until  I  found  myself 
washing  my  hands  in  the  brook."  Such  is  the  plunge 
down  the  castle  wall.  Thus  confessed  Green.  Not 
unlike  this  was  Webster's  confession.  The  fiend  long 
lures  us  on,  step  by  step  ;  he  watches  for  the  ripened 
hour,  and  when  it  comes,  he  leaps  to  the  will,  and  his 
murderous  bidding  is  obeyed.  Resistance  at  the  first 
approach  Js  necessary,  or  everything  is  jeopardized. 
Great  crimes  are  always  the  outgrowth  of  minor  ones, 
though,  in  their  results  and  bearings,  there  are  no 
minor  crimes.  The  notorious  criminal  always  tlior- 
oughly  paves  his  pathway,  and  childhood  often  places 
the  first  stones.  It  is  the  preliminary  tampering  with 
sin  that  does  the  mischief.  The  journey  of  trans- 
gression is  dangerous  from  the  start.  The  man  who 
yields,  though  in  a  thing  often  regarded  unimportant,' 
has  stepped  his  foot  upon  a  frightfully  slippery  place, 
and  has  taken  a  deadly  serpent  into  his  bosom. 

Facts  show  how  often  the  crime  of  Judas  has  been 
repeated,   though    under    a    great   variety  of  circum- 


I03        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

stances.  Men  who  have  been  intrusted  with  the 
money  of  others  are  tempted  to  appropriate  some 
portion  of  it  to  their  own  use  ;  it  is  to  be  thus  em- 
ployed only  for  a  time  ;  there  is  an  honest  intention 
of  restoring  it  in  full ;  it  is  a  hard  spot  to  bridge  over  ; 
it  is  to  help  out  from  present  difficulty  some  embar- 
rassed friend ;  in  the  long  run  no  one  shall  be 
wronged.*  Cursed  be  such  temptations  !  One  had 
better  go  half  clothed,  half  fed,  and  half  starved  ;  had 
better  be  the  scorn  of  the  more  fashionable  in  commu- 
nity, rather  than  use,  without  the  owner's  consent  or 
knowledge,  one  dollar  or  one  farthing  of  his  money. 
It  is  not  so  much  the  money,  nor  the  use  of  the 
money  ;  the  amount  taken  may  be  so  trifling  that  no 
crisis  will  result  either  way  ;  but  the  amount  cannot 
be  so  trifling  that  the  character  is  not  demoralized  by 
the  transaction.  The  man's  self-respect  receives 
thereby  a  deplorable  shock.  The  key  to  the  fortress 
is  surrendered,  and  the  devil  will  thereafter  perplex 
and  ruin  the  transgressor,  if  he  can.  A  cunning,  and 
a  crafty,  and  a  heartless  wretch  is  Satan.  Everything 
is  allowed  by  him  to  go  swimmingly  prosperous  for  a 

*  It  is  not  difficult  to  imagine  that  the  preliminary  defal- 
cations of  Judas  were  committed,  not  with  reckless  disregard 
of  every  consideration,  but  with  much  plausible  reasoning. 
He  may  have  only  intended  at  first  an  investment  for  the 
corporation  of  which  he  was  treasurer;  or  an  investment  for 
himself,  with  the  intention  of  full  restoration  of  the  funds 
employed.  Inability  to  do  this,  together  with  difficulty  in 
meeting  payments,  may  have  led  to  continued  thefts  and 
false  returns.  At  length,  demoralized,  and  convinced  of  a 
speedy  end  to  his  Master's  career,  he  was  ripe  for  all  the 
atrocities  his  history  displayed. 


THE    DEFEAT.  IO3 

time,*  but  he  always  deserts  his  victim  when  the  rub 
comes ;  he  helps  into,  but  never  out  from  difficulties, 
except  to  plunge  one  into  still  greater  difficulties.  He 
watches  for  the  hour  of  ripening  with  keener  eye  than 
the  husbandman  watches  his  maturing  crojDS ;  he 
knows  when  to  assault  his  victim  with  multiplied 
temptations ;  he  knows  when  to  employ  every  recruit 
and  every  auxiliary  ;  he  knows  how  to  hunt  down 
and  dog  the  guilty  from  place  to  place,  until  he  ex- 
torts, if  possible,  unlimited  compliance  with  his  terms. 
As  fire  is  a  different  thing  when  a  servant  upon  the 
hearth  and  when  lording  it  over  our  roof,  so  is  Satan, 
when  a  suitor  and  when  a  tyrant. 

"Let  no  man  trust  the  first  false  step  of  guilt; 
It  hangs  upon  a  precipice 
Whose  steep  descent  in  last  perdition  ends." 

The  progress,  too,  after  one  has  fairly  set  out  in 
a  course  of  sin,  increases  with  alarming  augmenta- 
tion. Thus,  in  the  case  of  Judas,  his  cherished  avari- 
ciousness  was  followed  by  unfaithfulness ;  then,  in 
quick    succession,   by   embezzlement,    treachery,    be- 

*  Psalm  Ixxiii. 

There  is  a  tree  known  as  the  Judas  tree,  which  hap- 
pily illustrates  the  deceitful  and  alluring  character  of  sin. 
The  blossoms  appear  before  the  leaves,  and  are  of  brilliant 
crimson.  The  flaming  beauty  of  the  flowers  attracts  innu- 
merable insects,  and  the  wandering  bee  is  drawn  to  it  to 
gather  honey.  But  every  bee  that  alights  upon  its  blossoms 
imbibes  a  fatal  opiate,  and  drops  dead  from  among  the  crim- 
son flowers  to  the  earth.  Beneath  this  enticing  tree,  the 
earth  is  strewn  with  the  victims  of  its  fatal  fascinations. 


I04        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

trayal,  and  Satanic  possession.  The  truth  is,  that 
every  man  has  within  him  elements  of  eternal  kin- 
ship, and  also  unexplored  mines  of  wrath  and  death  ; 
that  by  which  he  may  become  little  less  than  a  God, 
on  the  one  hand,  or  a  baleful  and  everlasting  wreck, 
upon  the  other.  And  mighty  are  the  issues  pending 
upon  the  start.  There  is  no  man  of  earnest  soul, 
who  does  not,  at  times,  actually  feel  himself  trembling 
upon  the  appalling  verge  of  remediless  ruin  ;  and  a 
single  step,  at  the  critical  moment,  often  results  in  the 
inevitable  plunge.* 

The  fearful  nature  of  crime,  the  startling  capabili- 
ties of  the  human  heart  to  commit  crime,  tlie  treach- 
erous beginnings  and  shocking  terminations  of  crime, 
therefore  appeal,  as  with  the  voice  of  God,  to  every 
one  whose  face  is  in  the  least  turned  towards  any  form 
of  transgression,  to  escape  at  once  from  the  impending 
doom.  Emerson  somewhere  remarks  that  "  man, 
though  in  brothels,  or  jails,  or  on  gibbets,  is  on  his 
way  to  all  that  is  good  and  true."  One  important 
condition  is  herein  overlooked  —  cvc7'yihing  depends 
upon  uohich  way  the  inan^ s  face  is  turned. 

Nay,  the  deep  undertone  of  the  whole  universe  is  a 
solid  entreaty  to  the  sinful  to  repent  and  accept  super- 
natural strength,  for  every  one  needs  strength  more 
than  natural  to  pave  the  way  through  tliesc  perils  of 
life  up  to  a  glorious  immortality. 

♦  Dr.  SouLh's  statetncntof  this  thought  is  forcible  :  " 'J'licre 
is  no  man  breathing  but  carries  about  him  a  sleeping  lion  in 
his  bosom,  which  God  can  and  may,  when  he  pleases,  rouse 
up  and  let  loose  upon  him,  so  as  to  tear  and  worry  him,  to 
that  degree  that  he  shall  be  glad  to  lake  sanctuary  in  a  quiet 
grave." 


THE    DEFEAT.  IO5 

A  few  hours  onl}^  intervene  after  the  last  words  of 
our  Saviour,  —  "What  thou  doest,  do  quickly,"  — 
before  new  scenes  crowd  upon  us.  The  lights  are 
out  in  the  supper-hall,  the  Master  and  his  companions 
are  among  the  cypress  trees  at  the  foot  of  the  Mount 
of  Olives,  in  the  garden  of  Gethsemane.  They  are 
under  the  triple  shadows  of  mountain,  city,  and  orna- 
mental trees.  The  traitor  has,  meantime,  notified  the 
rulers  that  everything  is  now  in  readiness.  There  are 
bustle  and  haste  in  the  temple  courts ;  this  thing  must 
be  done  by  night,  and  before  the  common  people  get 
wind  of  the  transaction  ;  otherwise  they  will  prevent 
it.  The  detachment  guard  of  five  hundred  —  the 
Roman  cohort  for  the  castle  of  Antonia  —  are  ordered 
out.  The  captain  of  the  temple,  attended  by  the  tem- 
ple police,  with  a  few  private  but  interested  citizens, 
together  with  the  priests,  rulers,  and  servants  not  on 
temple  duty,  are  drawn  up  in  line  of  march.  Silently, 
at  that  midnight  hour,  headed  by  the  captain,  who 
was  arm  in  arm  with  Judas,  they  thread  their  way 
through  the  streets  of  Jerusalem.*     Judas  is  familiar 

*  Tlie  account,  as  gathered  from  the  different  evangelists, 
is  the  following  :  — 

"  When  Jesus  had  spoken  these  words,  he  went  forth  with 
his  disciples  over  the  brook  Cedron,  where  was  a  garden, 
into  the  which  he  entered,  and  his  disciples.  And  Judas 
also,  which  betrayed  him,  knew  the  place;  for  Jesus  ofttimes 
resorted  thither  with  his  disciples.  Judas,  then,  having  re- 
ceived a  band  of  men  and  officers  from  the  chief  priests  and 
Pharisees,  cometh  thither  with  lanterns,  and  torches,  and 
weapons.  Jesus,  therefore,  knowing  all  things  that  should 
come  upon  him,  went  forth,  and  said  unto  them,  Whom  seek 
ye?    They    answered    him,  Jesus   of  Nazareth.     Jesus  suith 


Io6        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

with  the  way,  and  with  all  the  private  resorts  of  his 
Master,  and  knows  the  spot  where  he  would  this  night 
be  found  ;  often  had  he  visited  it,  in  company  with 
his  Master.  The  troops  now  on  the  way  are  sufficient 
to  surround  it.  This  being  silently  done,  their  torches 
and  lanterns  are  quickly  lit,  and  their  weapons  drawn. 
Humanly  speaking,  escape  is  impossible.  They  ap- 
proach gradually,  drawing  in  towards  the  centre.  The 
Master  and  the  eleven  are  thereby  exposed  to  full  view. 
"  Now,"  says  Matthew,  "  he  that  betrayed  him 
gave  them  a   sign,  saying,  Whomsoever  I  shall  kiss, 

unto  them,  I  am  he.  And  Judas  also,  which  betrayed  him, 
stood  with  them."    John  xviii.  1-5. 

"And  while  he  yet  spake,  lo,  Judas,  one  of  the  twelve, 
came,  and  with  him  a  great  multitude,  with  swords  and 
staves,  from  the  chief  priests  and  elders  of  the  people.  Now 
he  that  betrayed  him  gave  them  a  sign,  saying,  Whomsoever 
I  shall  kiss,  that  same  is  he;  hold  him  fast.  And  forthwith 
he  came  to  Jesus,  and  said.  Hail,  Master;  and  kissed  him. 
And  Jesus  said  unto  him,  Friend,  wherefore  art  thou  come.? 
Then  came  they,  and  laid  hands  on  Jesus,  and  took  him." 
Matt.  xxvi.  47-50. 

"And  immediately,  while  he  yet  spake,  comcth  Judas,  one 
of  the  twelve,  and  with  him  a  great  multitude,  with  swords 
and  staves,  from  the  chief  priests,  and  the  scribes,  and  the 
elders.  And  he  that  betrayed  him  had  given  them  a  token, 
saying,  Whomsoever  I  shall  kiss,  that  same  is  he;  take  him, 
and  lead  him  away  safely.  And  as  soon  as  he  was  come,  he 
goeth  straightway  to  him,  and  saith,  Master,  Master;  and 
kissed  him."     Mark  xiv.  43-45. 

"And  while  he  yet  spake,  behold,  a  multitude,  and  he  that 
was  called  Judas,  one  of  the  twelve,  went  before  them,  and 
drew  near  unto  Jesus,  to  kiss  him.  But  Jesus  said  unto  him, 
Judas,  betrayest  thou  the  Son  of  man  with  a  kiss.?"  Luke 
xxii.  47,  48. 


THE    DEFEAT.  IO7 

that  same  is  he;  hold  him  fast."  "Hold  him  fast." 
Mark  the  words!  Ill  at  ease  is  Judas.  "And,"  con- 
tinues the  narrative,  "  forthwith  he  came  to  Jesus, 
and  said,  Hail,  Master ;  and  kissed  him."  Horrors ! 
Of  a  truth,  the  criminal  capabilities  of  humanity  are 
fiendish  ;  that  kiss,  which  should  have  remained  as  a 
world-wide  and  pure  symbol  of  love,  is  henceforth  an 
efFaceless  brand-mark  upon  the  forehead  of  the  race, 
indicative  of  lurking  treachery  and  death. 

"Companion,"  said  our  Lord,  —  such  is  the  origi- 
nal,—  "why  standest  thou  here?"  This  question 
seemed  to  be  the  first  syllable  that  stirred  the  con- 
science of  Judas  to  due  comprehension  of  his  guilt. 

Qiiickly  followed  another  dreadful  interrogation, 
which  must  have  rolled  like  terrific  thunder  through 
the  soul  of  the  traitor  —  "Judas,  betrayest  thou  the 
Son  of  man  with  a  kiss.^"  For  an  instant  their  eyes 
met ;  beaming  from  the  face  of  the  one  was  calm- 
ness, mingled  with  mercy  ;  stamped  upon  the  face  of 
the  other  was  a  rayless  despair.  The  next  instant, 
Jesus  and  his  disciple  separated,  with  a  silent  but 
eternal  farewell. 

It  is  well  nigh  the  hour  of  morning.  The  temple 
seems  quite  deserted.  The  Levites  are  in  the  guard 
room.  The  priests  on  duty  are  within  the  court  of 
the  Israelites.  All  are  suddenly  startled  by  a  heavy 
footfall,  and  panting  breath,  such  as  they  are  unused 
to  hearing.  Why  comes  this  intruder  here?  But  no 
guard  is  able  to  arrest  him.  See  him,  his  eyes  blood- 
shot, and  in  his  outstretched  hand  is  a  bag  of  silver. 
He  rushes  past  the  Levite  watch,  under  the  vine-clad 


I08        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

arch,  into  the  sanctuary,  into  the  court  of  the  priests, 
even  into  the  holy  place  (sv  tw  j'aw),  where  no  com- 
mon Jew  was  allowed,  and  whence  all  Gentiles  were 
interdicted,  on  penalty  of  death  if  they  entered.  But 
to  this  man  the  sanctity  of  the  temple  is  nothing,  the 
resentment  of  the  priests  is  nothing ;  everything,  save 
one  thing,  is  as  nothing.  Give  way !  Stop  him  not! 
for  a  firebrand  is  in  his  bosom,  and  the  avenger  of 
blood  is  upon  his  track. 

O  wretched  man!  who  shall  deliver  him.?  He 
tries  to  make  restitution  ;  as  a  last  resource  of  his 
hopeless  misery,  he  comes  to  the  priests  ;  God's  min- 
isters will  surely  pity  him  ;  he  implores,  and  he  begs, 
and  he  proffers  the  thirty  pieces  of  silver,  but  they  are 
like  garments  spotted  with  blood  —  nobody  wants 
them.  Alas  for  the  thirty  pieces  of  silver !  Had 
they  been  talents  of  gold,  they  were  no  relief  or  atone- 
ment. His  agony  is  every  moment  intensified  ;  his 
conscience,  which  had  suffered  only  an  occasional 
twinge,  now  rises  like  an  army  with  banners.  "  I 
have  sinned,  I  have  sinned,"  he  exclaims,  "  in  that  I 
have  betrayed  innocent  blood."  '*  And  they  said. 
What  is  that  to  us?  See  thou  to  that."  Heartless 
monsters !  *     Yes,    they    repel    this    ill-fated   wretch  ; 

*  Often  has  this  conduct  heen  repeated.  Young  men  have 
been  admitted  into  the  society  of  those  who  pass  for  gentle- 
men;  they  have  lost  everything  upon  the  stake  of  a  single 
throw,  and  being  of  no  further  service,  have  been  spurned 
from  the  presence  of  those  who  but  lately  paid  them  every 
attention,  and  then  have  been  kicked  into  the  street,  and 
told  to  go  to  the  devil.  That  there  is  hoiH)r  among  thieves, 
and  the  like,  is,  oftcner  than  otherwise,  merely  a  myth. 


THE    DEFEAT.  IO9 

they  gibe  him  with  heartless  language ;  they  heed  not 
the  remorse-stung  victim  whom,  but  shortly  before, 
they  had  embraced  ;  they  see  his  distress,  but  they 
had  used  him  as  long  as  they  wanted  anything  of  him, 
and  now  they  bid  him  begone.  "  It  is  none  of  our 
business  ;  away,  thou  fool." 

The  horror-stricken  man  deigns  not  a  word  in  re- 
ply ;  at  the  feet  of  the  astonished  priests  he  flings  the 
accursed  blood-money  ;  the  chink  of  it,  sounding  like 
a  death-knell,  seems  to  startle  anew  the  betrayer ;  he 
flies  to  find  rest  in  solitude,  but  fails  in  his  search  ;  he 
dares  stay  on  earth  no  longer,  and  he  wiliy^^/,  rather 
than  longer  Jear,  the  torments  of  the  lost. 

He  speeds  onward,  past  the  palace  of  Herod, 
away  from  the  tower  of  Antonia,  in  the  opposite 
direction  from  the  garden  of  Gethsemane  ;  no  course 
is  more  natural,  and  none  more  fatal ;  onward,  on- 
ward like  a  madman  he  rushes  ;  he  thinks  that  they 
who  loved  Jesus  are  about  to  kill  him  ;  like  Cain, 
he  feels  that  every  man's  hand  is  against  him  ;  that 
his  punishment  is  greater  than  he  can  bear.  His  de- 
jection becomes  despair ;  the  pains  of  hell  get  hold 
upon  him  ;  Satan  tantalizes  him,  and  aggravates  every 
sin  and  mistake  of  his  life ;  the  purity  of  Christ's 
life  haunts  and  condemns  him.  '-'- Ltnocent  blood  !  " 
"innocent  blood! ^'  is  before  his  eyes,  and  stains  his 
hands.  Had  it  been  sinful  blood,  he  could  have 
washed  it  off';  tranquillized  would  have  been  his  de- 
spair if  one  false  step  in  that  faultless  life  of  Christ 
could  have  been  recalled.  "  Blood,  blood !  "  ex- 
claimed Booth,  the  murderer  of  Lincoln.  Indelible 
ever  are  the  stains  of  innocent  blood  ;  the  waters  of 


no        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

the  "multitudinous  seas"  cannot  wash  them  off.* 
iSIuider  will  out !  No  nook  nor  corner  in  the  whole 
universe  of  God  can  conceal  a  murderer. f  No  sooner 
does  the  horrified  Judas  plant  his  feet  for  the  last  time 
upon  h.is  intended  future  homestead,  that  charming 
spot  purchased  by  money  stolen  from  poor  people  and 
the  bag,  than  he  feels  that  every  finger  in  Jerusalem  is 
pointing  him  out,  and  that  every  voice,  loaded  with  a 
curse,  pronounces  him  thief ^  traitor^  and  imwderer ! 
He  tries  to  reason  with  himself:  "I  have  done  no 
murder  ;  the  priests  are  the  ones  who  are  killing  Je- 
sus ;  and  yet  —  I  am  an  accomplice;  nay,  the  prin- 
cipal. 'Tis  my  hand  that  struck  the  blow,  my  spear 
ran  him  through.     Can  I  not  pray? 

*  What  if  this  cursed  hand 
Were  thicker  than  itself  with  brothers'  blood? 
Is  there  not  rain  enough  in  the  sweet  heavens 
To  wash  it  white  as  snow? 
Try  what  repentance  can.     What  can  it  not? 
Yet  what  can  it,  when  one  cannot  repent? 
O  wretched  state!     O  bosom  black  as  death! 
O  limed  soul ! '  J 

What,  is  there  no  security  here?  Am  I  not  upon  my 
own  soil?"  Your  own  soil  I  That  charming  plot  of 
ground  has  Ijecome  the  most  frightful  spot  on  God's 
earth. 

See  !     The   eyes    of   the   betrayer   start    from    tlicir 
sockets,  his  lips  are  pallid,  he  trembles  like  a  scourged 

*  Shakespeare. 

t  Daniel  Webster's  plea  at   the  trial  of  the  Knapps  for  the 
murder  of  Captain  White.     See  Appendix  II. 
X  Hamlet. 


THE    DEFEAT.  Ill 

slave ;  on  every  hand  he  hears  the  groans  of  dying 
men  ;  the  rusthng  leaf  is  the  breath  of  an  enemy,  and 
every  sound  is  an  avenger's  footfall.  All  things  mean 
mischief;  every  grape-vine  conceals  a  dagger,  poised 
and  trembling  to  leap  into  his  heart;  every  nook  is 
crowded  with  murderers. 

"  Have  mercj,  Jesu  !  Soft;  I  did  but  dream. 
O,  coward  conscience,  how  dost  thou  afflict  me ! 
The  lights  burn  blue.  It  is  now  dead  midnight. 
Cold,  fearful  drops  stand  on  my  trembling  flesh. 
What  do  I  fear.?    Myself.?    There's  none  else  by: 

Is  there  a  murderer  here.?     No;  yes;  I  am. 

Then  fly.    What,  from  myself.?     Great  reason;  why? 

Lest  I  revenge.     What.?     Myself  on  myself.? 

I  love  myself.     Wherefore.?     For  any  good 

That  I  myself  have  done  unto  myself.? 

O,  no ;   alas,  I  rather  hate  myself 

For  hateful  deeds  committed  by  myself. 

I  am  a  villain ;  yet  I  lie,  I  am  not. 

Fool,  of  thyself  speak  well.     Fool,  do  not  flatter. 

My  conscience  hath  a  thousand  several  tongues, 

And  every  tongue  brings  in  a  several  tale, 

And  every  tale  condemns  me  for  a  villain. 

Perjury,  perjury,  in  the  highest  degree, 

All  several  sins,  all  used  in  each  degree, 

Throng  to  the  bar,  crying  all,  Guilty,  guilty! 

I  shall  despair.     There  is  no  creature  loves  me; 

And,  if  I  die,  no  soul  will  pity  me  : 

Nay,  wherefore  should  thej^.?  since  that  I  myself 

Find  in  myself  no  pity  to  myself.* 

Unfortunate  and   wretched   man,  did  you  think  on 
that  spot  of  ground  to  build  a  royal  home.^     Did  you 

*  Richard  III. 


112        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

expect  to  hold  some  official  position  among  your  fel- 
low-citizens? Did  you  imagine  that  the  noted  men 
of  the  realm  would  visit  you,  and  sup  at  your  table, 
and  praise  your  vines  and  wines?  Did  you  intend 
there  to  pass  your  years  with  a  queenly  wife,  and  with 
happy  children?  How  overwhelming  the  defeat  you 
have  met ! 

"  Seeing  that  face,  I  could  but  fear  the  end; 
For  death  was  in  it,  looking  through  his  eyes, 
Nor  could  I  follow,  to  arrest  the  fate, 
That  drove  him  madly  on  with  scorpion  whip." 


Does  the  eye  of  any  one  who  is  securing  property 
by  gains  and  means  which  are  questionable,  fall  upon 
this  page?  Is  he  fancying  that  the  day  will  come 
when  he  can  retire  from  the  turmoil  of  business,  and 
enjoy  his  ill-gotten  possessions?  God's  providence, 
and  an  experience  well  nigh  universal,  thunder,  "  No, 
he  sliall  not."  There  is  less  happiness  for  him  than 
for  the  honest  savage  in  his  jungle  home. 

What  makes  voluntary  suicide  at  once  detestable 
and  horrifying,  is  its  embodiment  of  rebellion  against 
God,  and  a  defiant  forth-stepping  to  his  judgment  bar. 
It  is  the  natural  expression  of  extreme  self-condemna- 
tion, and  also  a  tyjje  of  eternal  C(jndemnat.I()n.  It  is 
not  always  the  worst  step  in  a  man's  life,  but  it  i)oints 
back  to  a  terrible  declension  in  the  w  ay  to  ruin. 

From  tliis  frightful  conditifju  in  which  Judas  found 
himself,  he  at  once  compleled  iiis  icsolve  to  lusii  to 
perdition.     Every    facility   was    at    hand.     Tiie    most 


THE   DEFEAT.  1 13 

probable  facts  are  the  following :  *  An  overhanging 
limb  of  a  tree,  growing  upon  the  edge  of  the  de- 
clivity, was  selected  ;  the  strap  which  for  three  years 
had  held  the  money  bag  was  attached  to  the  limb,  and 
then  adjusted  about  the  neck  ;  a  single  bound,  and  the 
victim  dangled  for  a  moment  in  the  air  ;  the  well-worn 
strap  snapped  asunder ;  the  tree  shook  off  the  self- 
murderer  ;  his  own  soil  spurned  him  ;  he  was  hurled 
from   one  jagged    point    to    another ;    the    strangled 

*  The  statements  made  are  based  upon  the  following  Scrip- 
ture data :  — 

"  Then  Judas,  which  had  betrayed  him,  when  he  saw  that 
he  was  condemned,  repented  himself,  and  brought  again  the 
thirty  pieces  of  silver  to  the  chief  priests  and  elders,  saying, 
I  have  sinned  in  that  I  have  betrayed  the  innocent  blood. 
And  they  said,  What  is  that  to  us?  See  thou  to  that.  And 
he  cast  down  the  pieces  of  silver  in  the  temple,  and  departed, 
and  went  and  hanged  himself."     Matt,  xxvii.  3-5. 

"  Now  this  man  purchased  a  field  with  the  reward  of  ini- 
quity; and  falling  headlong,  he  burst  asunder  in  the  midst, 
and  all  his  bowels  gushed  out.  And  it  was  known  unto  all 
the  dwellers  at  Jerusalem ;  insomuch  as  that  field  is  called,  in 
their  proper  tongue,  Aceldama,  that  is  to  say,  The  field  of 
blood."     Acts  i.  18,  19. 

Story's  description  of  the  discovery  of  the  corpse  is 
graphic  :  — 

"The  sky  was  dark  with  heavy,  lowering  clouds; 
A  lifeless,  stifling  air  weighed  on  the  world; 
A  dreadful  silence  like  a  nightmare  lay 
Crouched  on  its  bosom,  waiting,  grim  and  gray, 
In  horrible  suspense  of  some  dread  thing. 
A  creeping  sense  of  death,  a  sickening  smell, 
Infected  the  dull  breathing  of  the  wind. 
A  thrill  of  ghosts  went  by  me  now  and  then, 

8 


114        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

wretch  burst  asunder  in  his  descent ;  and  we  turn  to 
hide  our  eyes  from  the  mangled  and  disgusting  corpse 
that  Hes  below  in  the  dark  ravine,  over  which  the 
evangelist  has  thrown  a  friendly  mantle,  in  which  are 
inwrought  these  simple  but  impressive  words:  "  Gone 
to  his  own  placed  That  mantle  we  will  not  attempt 
to  lift,  but  may  be  permitted  to  add  to  the  epitaph  one 

word DEFEATED. 

And  made  mj  flesh  creep  as  I  wandered  on. 

At  last  I  came  to  where  a  cedar  stretched 

Its  black  arms  out  beneath  a  dusky  rock, 

And,  passing  through  its  shadow,  all  at  once 

I  started;  for  against  the  dubious  light 

A  dark  and  heavy  mass,  that  to  and  fro 

Swung  slowly  with  its  weight,  before  me  grew. 

A  sick,  dread  sense  came  over  me  ;  I  stopped  — 

I  could  not  stir.     A  cold  and  clammj''  sweat 

Oozed  out  all  over  me ;   and  all  my  limbs, 

Bending  with  tremulous  weakness  like  a  child's, 

Gave  way  beneath  me.     Then  a  sense  of  shame 

Aroused  me.     I  advanced,  stretched  forth  my  hand, 

And  pushed  the  shapeless  mass;  and  at  my  touch 

It  yielding  swung  —  the  branch  above  it  creaked, 

And  back  returning,  struck  against  my  face. 

A  human  body!     Was  it  dead,  or  not? 

Swiftly  my  sword  I  drew,  and  cut  it  down, 

And  on  the  sand  all  heavily  it  dropped. 

I  plucked  the  robes  away,  exposed  the  face  — 

'Twas  Judas,  as  I  feared,  cold,  stiff,  and  dead: 

That  suffering  heart  of  his  had  ceased  to  beat." 


THE   TRIUMPH. 


Until  the  grave,  the  rod  and  cross  will  lie  on  us ;  but  then 
comes  their  end.     Paul  Gerhardt. 

Providence  has  a  wild,  rough,  incalculable  road  to  its  end, 
and  it  is  of  no  use  to  try  to  whitewash  its  huge,  mixed  instru- 
mentalities, or  to  dress  up  that  terrific  benefactor  in  a  clean 
shirt  and  white  neck-cloth  of  a  student  in  divinity. 

Emerson. 

The  eternal  stars  shine  out  as  soon  as  it  is  dark  enough. 

Carlyle. 

When  sorrows  come,  they  come  not  single  spies,  but  in 
battalions.     Shakespeare. 

Extraordinary  afflictions  are  not  always  the  punishment  of 
extraordinary  sins,  but  sometimes  the  trial  of  extraordinary 
graces.     Matthew  Henry. 

Affliction  is  a  school  or  academy,  wherein  the  best  schol- 
ars are  prepared  for  the  commencement  days  of  the  Deity. 

Robert  Burton. 

A  virtuous  and  well-disposed  person  is  like  good  metal,  — 
the  more  he  is  fired  the  more  he  is  fined ;  the  more  he  is  op- 
posed, the  more  he  is  approved.  Wrongs  may  well  try  him, 
and  touch  him,  but  they  cannot  imprint  on  him  any  false 
stamp.     Richelieu. 

I  consider  how  a  man  comes  out  of  the  furnace;  gold  will 
lie  for  a  month  in  the  furnace  without  losing  a  grain. 

Cecil. 

Times  of  general  calamity  and  confusion  have  ever  been 
productive  of  the  greatest    minds.      The  purest  ore  is  pro- 
duced from  the   hottest  furnace,  and  the  brightest  thunder- 
bolt is  elicited  from  the  darkest  storm.     Colton. 
117 


Trial  brings  man  face  to  face  with  God;  the  flimsy  Vciil  of 
bright  cloud  is  blown  away  ;  he  feels  that  he  is  standing  out- 
side the  earth,  with  nothing  between  him  and  the  Eternal 
Infinite.  O,  there  is  something  in  the  sick  bed,  and  the  rest- 
lessness and  the  languor  of  shattered  health,  and  the  sorrow 
of  aflections  withered,  and  the  stream  of  life  poisoned  at  the 
fountain,  and  the  cold,  lonely  feeling  of  utter  sadness  of  the 
heart, — what  is  felt  when  God  strikes  home  in  earnest, — 
that  forces  a  man  to  feel  what  is  real  and  what  is  not. 

Robertson. 

Only  one  moment  of  weakness,  think  you?  —  one  single 
moment  more;  .  .  .  but  that  moment  is  the  one  selected  by 
the  tempter  for  a  last  trial,  and  in  it  you  are  about  to  ruin 
his  hopes  forever,  or  to  give  them  fresh  vigor.  Courage, 
then!  Stand  firm!  Give  not  back  a  single  step!  Falter 
not  for  a  moment!  Dispel  every  illusion  of  the  enemy! 
Prove  to  him  that  with  you  he  loses  both  his  time  and  his 
trouble.  And,  by  the  reception  which  you  give  him,  compel 
him  to  recognize  in  the  disciple  the  Master  who  overcame 
him  in  the  wilderness.     Monod. 

What  claim  can  that  man  have  to  courage  who  trembles 
at  the  frowns  of  fortune?  True  heroism  consists  in  being 
superior  to  the  ills  of  life,  in  whatever  shape  they  may  chal- 
lenge you  to  combat.     Napoleon. 

ii8 


THE    TRIUMPH 


EACH  man's  life  is  both  a  fact  and  a  symbol. 
Everybody  has,  therefore,  both  a  real  and  a 
typical  history.  The  actual  and  the  typical  history 
of  Judas  are  before  us ;  he  is  found  to  be  a  type  of 
defeated  humanity  in  all  ages.  Mankind,  likewise, 
has  other  phases  of  character,  and  special  representa- 
tives of  the  same. 

The  opposite  of  defeat  is  triumph.  No  one  can  fail 
of  calling  to  mind  one  of  the  grandest  types  of  trium- 
phant conflict  w^hich  history  records,  and  every  reader 
will  justify  careful  analysis  and  application. 

While  Abraham  w^is  living  in  Uz  of  the  Chaldees, 
amid  scenes  of  idolatry,  while  Greece  was  scarcely 
more  than  a  frontier  settlement,  —  such  as  the  New 
England  coast  appeared  upon  the  arrival  of  the  Pil- 
grims,—  and  while  Melchisedek,  a  noble  priest  and 
prince,  was  ruling  the  charming  region  of  Salem,  had 
we  passed  down  the  eastern  slope  of  the  mountains 
separating  Palestine  from  Arabia,  we  should  have 
traversed  estates  belonging  to  a  man  who  was  no  less 
faithful  than  Abraham,  no  less  a  Christ-like  prince 
than  Melchisedek,  and  who,  taken  all  in  all,  is  one  of 

119 


I20        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

the  noblest  and  most  faultless  characters  recorded  in 
history.     This  man  bears  the  name  of  Job.* 

Most  modern  scholars  of  note,  it  is  well  known, 
whether  sceptical  or  orthodox,  agree  that  tlie  Book  of 
Job,  which  records  the  trials  of  this  patriarch,  is  one 
of  the  most  ancient  as  well  as  one  of  the  most  sublime 
masterpieces  among  literary  productions.! 

Some  there  arc,  it  is  true,  who  have,  in  times  past, 
looked  upon  Job,  not  as  a  real,  but  as  a  fictitious 
character  ;  still  it  is  equally  true  that  at  the  present 
time  there  exists  comparatively  little  doubt  that  Job  is 
the  name  of  a  real  person,  whose  essential  history 
is  recorded  in  the  book  bearing  his  name,  and  that 
he  is  as  really  a  person,  as  David,  Paul,  and  Martin 
Luther   are  real    nnd  not  fictitious   characters.      The 

*  Appendix  I. 

t  ''  I  call  our  Book  of  Job,  apart  from  all  theories  about 
it,"  says  Carljle,  "  one  of  the  grandest  things  ever  written 
with  pen.  One  feels,  indeed,  as  if  it  were  not  Hebrew;  such 
a  noble  universality,  different  from  noble  patriotism  or  secta- 
rianism, reigns  in  it.  A  noble  book;  all  men's  book!  It  is 
our  first,  oldest  statement  of  the  never-ending  problem,  man's 
destiny,  and  God's  ways  with  him  here  on  this  earth.  And 
all  in  such  free  flowing;  grand  in  its  sincerity,  in  its  compli- 
city, in  its  epic  melody,  and  repose  of  reconcilement.  There 
is  the  seeing  eye,  the  mildly  understanding  heart.  So  t?'ue, 
every  way;  true  eyesight  and  vision  for  all  things;  material 
things  no  less  than  spiritual  ;  the  horse,  '  hast  thou  clothed 
his  neck  with  tkuiider  ?  —  he  laughs  at  the  shaking  of  the 
spear!'  Such  living  likenesses  were  never  seen  drawn. 
Sublime  sorrow,  sublime  reconciliation ;  oldest  choral  melo- 
dy as  of  the  heart  of  mankind;  so  soft  and  great;  as  the 
summer  midnight,  as  the  world  with  its  seas  and  stars! 
There  is  nothing  written,  I  think,  in  the  Bible  or  out  of  it,  of 
equal  literary  merit." 


THE    TRIUMPH.  121 

freedom  of  all  early  Hebrew  writings  from  such  like 
fictions ;  the  reference  to  Job,  as  an  actual  personage, 
in  other  and  later  parts  of  the  Bible ;  the  numerous 
traditions  in  the  East  respecting  the  patriarch  and  his 
family  ;  *  the  improbability  that  a  Hebrew  would  have 
invented  a  character  so  faultless,  yet  not  belonging  to 
his  own  race  ;  the  remarkable  consistency  in  the  devel- 
opment of  the  various  characters  introduced  ;  and  the 
singular  air  of  truthfulness  pervading  the  entire  narra- 
tive,—  contain  a  mass  of  accumulative  evidence  abso- 
lutely unanswerable,  in  favor  of  the  reality  of  Job's  ex- 
istence and  history.     Entertaining  these  opinions,  we 

*  The  following  scriptural  references  establish  the  fact  of 
the  high  estimate  placed  upon  Job,  and  likewise  the  reality 
of  his  existence  :  — 

"  The  word  of  the  Lord  came  again  to  me,  saying,  Son  of 
man,  when  the  land  sinneth  against  me  bj  trespassing  griev- 
ously, then  will  I  stretch  out  mine  hand  upon  it,  and  will 
break  the  staff  of  the  bread  thereof  and  will  send  famine 
upon  it,  and  will  cut  off  man  and  beast  from  it.  Though 
these  three  men,  Noah,  Daniel,  and  Job,  were  in  it,  they 
should  deliver  but  their  own  souls  by  their  righteousness, 
saith  the  Lord  God."     Ezekiel  xiv.  12-14. 

"  Behold,  we  count  them  happy  which  endure.  Ye  have 
heard  of  the  patience  of  Job,  and  have  seen  the  end  of  the 
Lord ;  that  the  Lord  is  very  pitiful,  and  of  tender  mercy." 
James  v.  11. 

Traditions  found  in  the  Koran,  also  in  D'Herbelot's  Bibl. 
Orient,  establish,  beyond  controversy,  the  fact  that  there  was 
such  a  person  as  Job,  who  lived  in  the  patriarchal  age,  and 
who,  above  all  other  men,  was  distinguished  for  his  suffer- 
ings and  his  patience.  Throughout  Arabia,  reverence  for  the 
name  of  Job  has  been  very  great,  and  continues  thus  to  the 
present  day.  The  noblest  families  claim  that  they  are  de- 
scended from  this  patriarch. 


122        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

shall  be  the  better  prepared  to  review  the  life  of  Job, 
and  gather  therefrom  some  of  the  more  important  and 
representative  lessons. 

Of  his  early  life  we  have  no  data  save  those  based 
upon  questionable  tradition.*  We  are,  at  the  outset, 
introduced  to  a  man  whose  wealth,  consisting  in  part 
of  rich  and  extensive  lands,  and  in  part  of  multitudes 
of  flocks,  was  immense.  Relatively,  but  few  men,  in 
modern  times,  would  outrate  him.  In  addition  to 
this,  his  domestic  relations  seem  to  have  been  corre- 
spondingly felicitous ;  his  family  was  numerous  and 
prosperous.  He  was,  likewise,  a  man  of  refinement 
and  culture,  —  refinement  and  culture,  we  mean,  in 
the  truest  and  broadest  sense  of  these  terms.  His 
lands  lay  upon  the  great  thoroughfares  of  merchants 
who  passed  between  Temah,  Sheba,  and  Egypt.  He 
thereby  had  abundant  and  favorable  opportunities  for 
collecting  all  the  varied  information  then  known  to 
the  world  ;  of  this  he  seems  to  have  been  master. 
The  lofty  tone  pervading  the  speeches  of  Job  shows 
that  he  was  a  sage,  compared  with  which  many  in 
present  times,  who  pretend  much,  but  know  little,  are 

*  Job,  or  Aiub,  is  reported  by  some  of  the  Arabian  histori- 
ans to  have  been  descended  from  Ishmael :  by  others,  his  de- 
scent is  traced  from  Isaac,  through  Esau,  from  ^vhom  he  was 
the  third,  or  at  most  the  fourth  in  succession.  And  in  the 
history  given  by  Khendemir,  who  distinguishes  him  by  the 
title  of  The  Patient^  it  is  stated  that  by  his  mother's  side  he 
was  descended  from  Lot;  that  he  had  been  commissioned  by 
God  to  preach  the  faith  to  a  people  of  Syria;  that  although 
no  more  than  three  had  been  converted  by  his  preaching,  he 
was,  notwithstanding,  rewarded  for  his  zeal  by  immense  pos- 
sessions, &c. 


THE   TRIUMPH.  1 23 

as  dust  in  the  balance.  In  fact,  there  is  a  solemnity, 
a  solidity,  a  majesty  and  grandeur,  in  this  Arabian 
hero,  compared  with  which  the  frothiness  of  modern 
cant  and  mannerism  shows  in  the  most  pitiable  con- 
trast.* 

In  addition  to  all  this,  Job  was  a  man  of  high 
political  rank ;  he  was  a  prince,  alike  successful  in 
war  and  prosperous  in  peace.  "  He  was  the  greatest 
of  all  the  men  in  the  East,"  says  the  Arabian  proverb.f 

*  Hengstenberg  is  right  in  his  conclusion  that  for  depth  of 
religious  knowledge  Job  stands  even  higher  than  Abraham, 
t  This  agrees  with  his  description  of  himself.     The  trans- 
lation we  follow  throughout  the  discussion  is  that  by  Thom- 
as Wemjss. 

**  Then  Job  continued  his  discourse,  and  said, 

'  O  that  it  were  with  me  as  in  months  that  are  past, 

In  the  days  when  God  was  my  guardian! 

When  his  lamp  shone  over  my  head, 

And  by  his  light  I  walked  through  darkness : 

As  I  was  when  in  the  prime  of  my  life, 

When  God  guarded  my  tabernacle  : 

When  my  vigor  was  still  in  me, 

And  my  family  were  round  about  me  : 

When  streams  of  milk  flowed  where  I  went, 

And  the  rock  poured  me  out  rivers  of  oil : 

When  I  walked  early  through  the  city, 

And  a  seat  was  set  for  me  in  the  streets. 

The  young  men  saw  me  and  made  way  for  me ;  \ 

The  aged  ranged  themselves  around  me. 

The  rulers  restrained  themselves  from  talking, 

And  laid  their  hand  upon  their  mouth. 

The  nobles  observed  silence, 

Their  tongue  cleaved  to  the  roof  of  their  mouth. 

When  the  ear  heard  me  it  blessed  me; 

When  the  eye  saw  me  it  gave  signs  of  approbation ; 


124        "^^^  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

United  with  all  this  was  a  reputation  he  had  gained 
which  was  worth  more  than  his  money,  his  flocks, 
his  merchandise,  and  his  princely  authority.  He  was 
known,  far  and  near,  as  a  man  of  faultless  integrity. 
He  was  pronounced  by  the  Lord  himself  as  "  a  per- 
fect and  an  upright  man,  one  that  feareth  God  and 
escheweth  evil." 

Fori  delivered  the  poor  when  they  implored  assistance, 
And  the  orphan  \vho  had  no  defender. 
The  blessing  of  him  who  was  perishing  came  upon  me, 
And  I  caused  the  widow's  heart  to  sing  for  joy. 
I  put  on  equity,  and  clothed  myself  with  it; 
My  justice  was  as  a  robe  and  a  diadem. 
I  was  eyes  to  the  blind, 
I  was  feet  to  the  lame ; 
I  was  a  father  to  the  destitute, 

And  I  inquired  carefully  into  the  cause  of  the  stranger. 
I  broke  the  jaws  of  the  wicked, 
And  plucked  the  prey  out  of  his  teeth. 
Then  I  said,  I  shall  die  in  my  nest, 
I  shall  multiply  my  days  as  the  palm  tree; 
My  root  shall  spread  out  to  the  waters; 
The  dew  of  night  shall  repose  on  my  branches; 
My  glory  shall  be  unfading  around  me, 
And  my  bow  continue  fresh  in  my  hand.' 
*'  •  To  me  men  gave  ear  and  attended ; 
They  were  silent  at  my  admonition. 
After  I  had  spoken  they  replied  not, 
For  my  reasons  dropped  on  them  as  dew. 
They  waited  for  me  as  for  a  spring  shower; 
They  opened  wide  their  mouths,  as  for  the  harvest-rain. 
If  I  smiled  on  them,  they  were  gay. 
And  rejoiced  in  my  benignant  aspect; 
If  I  frequented  their  society,  I  sat  as  a  chief; 
I  dwelt  as  a  king  among  warriors. 
As  one  who  comforteth  the  mourners.'"     (Chap,  xxix.) 


THE    TRIUMPH.  125 

In  a  word,  his  was  a  life  of  unalloyed  prosperity, 
faultless  piety,  and  unquestioned  rectitude :  he  was 
honored  of  men  and  approved  of  God. 

In  the  further  development  of  the  narrative,  strange 
as  it  may  seem,  we  are  admitted  for  a  moment  behind 
the  veil  which  conceals  the  ordinarily  hidden  arrange- 
ments and  assignments  of  Providence,  and  are  per- 
mitted to  look  in  upon  the  private  council-chamber  of 
Jehovah,  and  to  see  for  once  what  things  are  some- 
times said  and  done  therein.  Typical  as  well  as  actual 
is  this  entire  drama,  and  every  man  is,  more  or  less, 
first  or  last,  enrolled  to  play  some  part.* 

The  divine  nature,  and  the  evil  nature,  and  human 
nature,  are  much  the  same  to-day  they  were  four 
thousand  years  ago.  Temptations  come  to  every 
heart  in  some  form,  and  gigantic,  though  unestimated, 
are  the  issues  pending. 

One  entered  that  council-chamber,  of  whom  the 
Lord  inquired  if  he  had  seen,  in  his  wanderings,  that 
model  of  human  excellence  in  the  person  of  the  Ara- 
bian Job.-f     He  said  he  had,  but  added,  in  terms  of 

*  Other  passages  speak  of  the  privy  council  of  the  Most 
High.  Job  XV.  8.  Ps.  Ixxxix.  7.  Jer.  xxiii.  18.  i  Kings 
xxii.  19.     Dan.  vii.  9,  10. 

t  The  presence  of  Satan  in  heaven  may  at  first  glance  ap- 
pear surprising,  but  not  upon  second  thought.  For  if  pre-ex- 
istent  humanity,  in  which  the  Logos  embodied  itself  long  be- 
fore coming  to  earth  (John  vi.  62 ;  iii.  13;  xvii.  5),  was  a 
higher  type  of  creation  than  the  angels,  and  if  Satan  was  of 
the  highest  order  of  angelic  creation,  then,  when  pre-exist- 
ing humanity  came  into  being  and  was  placed  upon  the 
throne,  there  was  an  occasion  for  the  origin  of  pride,  jealousy, 
and  rebellion  on  the  part  of  Satan.    And  when  the  command 


126        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

low  insinuation,  that  this  Job  was  serving  God  onl}' 
n2:)on  the  ground  of  some  selfish  policy.     Job  does  not 

•was  given,  *'Let  all  the  angels  of  God  worship  him"  (Ileb. 
i.  6),  the  spirit  of  rebellion  might  manifest  itself  in  open 
revolt.  His  prestige  was  gone.  He  should  have  submit- 
ted to  God's  will,  but  did   not;  he  rebelled. 

Of  the  fact  of  this  rebellion  there  can  be  no  question.  (Rev. 
xii.  7.)  The  thought  of  war  in  heaven  seems  not  quite  compati- 
ble with  the  consistency  of  things.  But  wars  have  just  as  much 
right  in  a  probationary  heaven  as  on  the  earth;  they  have 
no  right  anywhere.  An  enlarged  viewof  thi-ngs  will  find  not 
much  inconsistency  in  having  the  proud  and  ambitious  wars 
of  earth  prefigured  by  those  of  the  spiritual  world  ages  past. 
Also,  when  historic  humanity  was  created  in  the  person  of 
Adam,  there  was  another  occasion  for  the  further  exercise  of 
jealousy  and  malignity  on  the  part  of  Satan  and  his  minions. 
But  probably  he  did  not,  at  that  time,  descend  to  the  lowest 
degradation,  or  possibly  below  recovery.  He  had  lost  rank 
by  his  first  transgression,  but  not  to  such  extent  as  to  exclude 
him  from  heaven.  He  was  held  in  respect  by  the  angels. 
(Judeg.)  It  will,  doubtless,  some  time  be  revealed,  that  God 
has  been  merciful  to  the  fallen  angels  as  well  as  to  fallen  hu- 
manity. May  not  Satan  have  been  left  for  a  time  upon  pro- 
bation.?  Mav  not  the  opportunity  for  repentance  given  him 
have  been  like  that  given  to  mortals.-'  There  were  elect 
(i  Tim.  V.  21),  why  not  non-elect  angels?  In  this  connec- 
tion, "  the  Lamb  slain  from  the  foundation  of  the  world  "  is 
significant.     (Rev.  xiii.  8.) 

But  when  the  historic  God-man  appeared,  then  the  old 
spirit  of  rebellion,  which  first  showed  itself  in  heaven  against 
the  pre-existent  spiritual  God-man,  rose  to  its  height,  and  in 
that  mad  and  reckless  endeavor  to  tempt  and  destroy  the  Son 
of  God  (Matt.  iv.  1-12),  Satan  forfeited  all  claiins  to  mercy, 
and  did  irrepaial^le  damage  to  his  moral  cliaractcr.  'J'hat 
was  an  act  of  blasphemj'.  He  then  cominittcd,  as  it  seems 
to  us,   the  unpardonable    sin,    and   fell,   as    lightning,   from 


THE    TRIUMPH.  1 27 

serve  God  for  nought,  is  the  charge.  It  is  profit  Job  is 
after.  It  is  profit  all  your  supposed  good  men  are  after. 
There  is  no  reverence  for  God  in  all  their  show  of  piety. 
"You  have  blessed  Job,"  Satan  seems  to  say,  "  and  he 
does  w^ell  to  serve  you.  Who  would  not?  But  it  is 
merely  hypocrisy.  Job  is  saying, '  Lord  !  Lord  ! '  while 
his  heart  is  ftir  from  thee.  Strip  him  now  of  his  splen- 
did round  of  prosperity  with  which  you  have  hedged 
him  in  ;  touch  his  money,  then  see  if  he  cares  for  thee. 
He  will  no  longer  serve  thee  ;  he  will  mock  thee  and 
curse  thee  to  thy  face." 

It  is  not  a  little  surprising  that  Jehovah  allowed  such 
insolence  in  his  presence ;  but  then  we  know  he  per- 
mitted similar  real  or  apparent  insults,  twenty  centu- 
ries later,  in  the  wilderness.*  On  the  judgment  day 
it  will  be  wise  for  the  Judge  to  have  a  clear  case 
against  Satan.  When  we  better  know  the  purpose 
which  all  present  transactions  are  to  subserve  in  the 
universe,  we  can  much  better  answer  the  many  per- 
plexing questions  which  almost  daily  confront  us.-f     It 

heaven  (Luke  x.  18),  never  again  to  enter  it.  The  heavens 
could  well  rejoice;  the  accuser  had  gone  from  their  midst 
(Rev.  xii.  10)  ;  and  the  earth  might  wail  for  the  woe  that  his 
abiding  presence  brought  upon  it.  (Rev.  xii.  12.)  He  was 
left,  henceforth,  until  the  end  at  least,  to  fill  his  cup  brim 
full  of  iniquity,  in  preparation  for  his  final  banishment  into 
perdition.    See  Outlines  of  Christian  Theology,  by  the  Author. 

*  Matt.  iv.  3-10.     Luke  iv.  1-13. 

t  Hengstenberg  makes  a  good  note  upon  this  thought. 
"  The  question  put  by  a  savage,  '  Why,  then,  does  not  God 
strike  Satan  dead?'  could  only  have  been  retailed  as  appar- 
ently ingenious,  by  men  who  stood  spiritually  on  a  level 
with  the  savages.     Satan  is  a  very  important  element  in  the 


128        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

was  this  misrepresentation  on  the  part  of  Satan  which 
called  forth  from  Jehovah  the  following  language : 
"  And  the  Lord  said  unto  Satan,  Behold,  all  that  he 
hath  is  in  thy  power;  only  upon  himself  put  not  forth 
thine  hand.  So  Satan  went  forth  from  the  presence 
of  the  Lord,"  —  and  the  sun  went  down  at  high  noon. 

While  Job  was  in  the  height  of  his  prosperity, 
while  his  sons  and  his  daughters,  according  to  an 
Eastern  custom,  were  feasting  at  the  elder  brother's 
house,  while  the  oxen  were  ploughing  in  the  field,  while 
the  fiocks  were  pasturing  on  the  hill-side,  and  while 
the  camels  were  en  route  with  this  prosperous  man's 
merchandise,  —  everything  was  changed  in  a  day.  So 
has  it  been,  so  is  it,  and  so  will  it  be  again.  Tears 
often  flood  the  face  almost  before  the  smile  of  the  last 
moment  has  gone,  and  we  hear  sobs  almost  before  the 
echo  of  the  laugh  dies  out  from  the  adjacent  hall. 

Why  hastens  that  servant  of  Job  across  the  fields.'* 
Admit  him  !  "  Sir  !  "  is  his  salutation.  "  Say  on," 
is  the  reply.  "  The  oxen  were  ploughing,  and  the 
asses  feeding  beside  them,  and  the  Sabeans  fell  upon 
them,  and  took  them  away ;  yea,  they  have  slain  the 
servants  with  the  o^i^^o^  of  the  sword ;  and  I  only  am 
escaped  alone  to  tell  thee." 

Hard  times  are  these  for  a  good  man,  with  no  reason 
this  side  of  heaven  assigned  for  it.  This  vast  source 
of  income  cut  oif  in  a    moment,  must    make  even  a 

divine  economy.  God  needs  him,  and  he  therefore  keeps 
him  until  he  shall  have  no  more  use  for  him.  Then  will  he 
be  banished  to  his  own  place.  The  Scriptures  call  the  wick- 
ed heathen  tjrant  Nebuchadnezzar  a  servant  of  God.  Tliey 
might  give  Satan  the  same  name." 


THE    TRIUMPH.  x2^ 

rich  man  feel  poor.  The  opulent  prince  is  less  rich 
than  he  was  at  daybreak. 

But  why  hastens  homeward  this  other  servant, 
even  before  the  first  had  ceased  speaking?  Have 
the  oxen  and  the  flocks  been  recaptured  from  those 
lawless  freebooters? 

"  Sir,"  is  the  salutation ;  "  Say  on,"  the  reply. 

"  The  fire  of  God  is  fallen  from  heaven,  and  hath 
burned  up  the  sheep,  and  the  servants,  and  consumed 
them  ;  and  I  only  am  escaped  alone  to  tell  thee." 

Surely  evils  never  come  single-handed.  When  it 
rains  this  kind  of  rain,  it  pours.  It  is  ruin,  not  loss, 
which  now  glares  into  the  face  and  eyes  of  the 
patriarch. 

But  he  has  something  left,  and  it  is  a  long  road 
that  has  no  turn  in  it.  The  next  servant  will  surely 
bring  better  tidings. 

Listen  !  *'  While  the  last  was  yet  speaking,"  we 
read,  "  there  came  also  another,  and  said.  The  Chal- 
deans made  out  three  bands,  and  fell  upon  the  cam- 
els, and  have  carried  them  away,  yea,  and  slain  the 
servants  with  the  edge  of  the  sword  ;  and  I  only  am 
escaped  alone  to  tell  thee." 

Fearful  is  this  accumulation  of  ills  !  Darker  and 
thicker  comes  the  night  apace.  He  is  land-poor ; 
having  land,  but  no  use  for  it.  God  pity  the  man 
who  is  rich  and  poor  the  same  day  ;  who  is  full,  at 
ease,  one  day,  but  filled  with  trouble  the  next;  who 
looks  through  golden  avenues  to-day,  but  to-morrow 
looks  through  avenues  of  red  hot  coals  or  gray  ashes, 
or,  what  is  worse,  sees  nought  save  a  heaven  and  earth 
draped  in  weeds  of  mourning.     It   is  the  suddenness 

9 


130        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

and  the  painful  precision  of  such  like  things  which 
give  the  shock.  A  single  misfortune  may  come,  as  ac- 
cident (some  think),  or  in  the  natural  order  of  events 
(as  others  infer),  but  this,  blow  on  blow,  swift,  sudden, 
terrible,  and,  in  such  graduated  climax,  anguish  upon 
anguish,  this  smiting  a  man  when  he  is  down,  —  there 
is  no  accident  in  this ;  intelligence,  —  malignant  or 
otherwise,  —  intelligence  is  the  moving  hand  ;  designed 
visitations  are  there,  and  nothing  other.* 

*  Kitto  makes  the  following  note  upon  Satan's  method  in 
Job's  afflictions  :  — 

"The  apostle  assumes  that  we  are  not  ignorant  of  Satan's 
devices  (2  Cor.  ii.  11),  and  among  the  sources  of  our  knowl- 
edge respecting  them,  the  history  of  Job  and  his  trials  is  most 
conspicuous.  An  attentive  consideration  of  the  whole  matter, 
in  that  point  of  view,  would  be  most  instructive.  To  track  his 
various  windings,  dodges,  and  manoeuvres  for  the  purpose 
of  circumventing  Job,  and  of  bringing  peril  upon  his  soul, 
might  be  made  a  study  of  surpassing  interest  and  high  edifi- 
cation. Look,  for  instance,  at  his  penetrating  knowledge  of 
man's  heart,  and  his  masterly  generalship  in  working  upon 
it,  as  evinced  in  the  mere  ardor  and  succession  of  his  as- 
saults upon  Job.  After  having,  as  he  supposed,  weakened 
and  dispirited  this  good  man  by  his  previous  attacks,  he 
came  with  his  most  fierce  and  terrible  charge  last  of  all,  con- 
fident that  by  this  management  the  last  stroke  must  over- 
whelm and  destroy'  him.  This  seems  to  be  a  favorite  tactic 
with  him,  to  come  down  upon  us  with  his  strongest  assaults 
when  he  thinks  we  are  the  weakest.  It  is  easy  to  perceive 
that  if  Satan  had  suffered  Job  to  hear  first  of  the  death  of  his 
children,  all  the  rest  would  have  been  of  small  account  to 
him.  Little  would  he  have  cared  for  the  loss  of  his  cattle 
after  having  heard  that  all  his  children  had  been  crushed  to 
death  by  the  fall  of  tiie  house.  As  when  some  one  great  sor- 
row falls  upon  us,  the  heart  can  find  no  joy  in  the  good  that 


THE    TRIUMPH.  I3I 

But  still  a  man  will  endure  many  and  severe  losses 
in  temporal  things,  bite  his  trembling  lip,  hold  back 
his  tears,  force  a  smile,  and  stand  erect,  provided  that 
he  still  has  a  happy  and  unbroken  family  circle  to  go 
to.  It  is  the  good  home  which  affords  the  best  an- 
chorage in  storm  time.  Many  a  man  has  returned 
at  nightfall,  property  gone,  business  disastrous ;  but 
kneeling  in  prayer,  he  said,  "  Thank  God,  my  wife  and 
children  are  spared  me."  And  he  has  encouraged 
them,  and  said,  "  Though  we  shall  be  a  little  pinched, 
still  together  we  can  build  up  again." 

Job's  family  was  up  to  this  time  untouched ;  he 
could  bear  much  else  and  much  more  ;  although  that 
night  would  look  upon  a  poor  man,  stripped  of  vast 
wealth,  still  he  could  sleep,  for  his  children,  of  whom 
he  was  justly  proud,  wxre  spared. 

But,  what !  another  messenger  of  ill !  It  cannot 
be ;  and  yet,  when  things  are  going  amiss,  it  seems  as 
though  there  is  no  end  or  let  up.  "  While  the  last  was 
yet  speaking,"  continues  the  narrative,  "  there  came 
also   another,  and  said.  Thy  sons   and  thy  daughters 

at  other  times  bestows  delight,  so  also  does  one  great  evil 
swallow  up  all  sense  and  feeling  of  lesser  troubles.  Here, 
therefore,  we  behold  the  wiliness  of  Satan.  Lest  Job  should 
lose  any  of  the  smart  of  the  lesser  afflictions,  lest  they  should 
all  have  been  swallowed  up  in  the  greater,  he  lays  them  out 
in  order,  the  lesser  first,  the  greater  last,  that  his  victims  may 
not  lose  one  drop  of  the  bitterness  in  the  cup  mixed  by  the 
lord  of  poisons  for  him.  It  reminds  one  of  the  continental 
executions  of  great  criminals  in  the  last  age,  when  the  con- 
demned was  tortured,  maimed,  and  broken  before  the  coup 
de  grace  was  given.  Had  this  stroke  been  given  at  first,  all 
else  had  been  nothing." 


132        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

were  eating  and  drinking  wine  in  their  eldest  brother's 
house  :  and  behold  there  came  a  great  wind  from  the 
wilderness,  and  smote  the  four  corners  of  the  house, 
and  it  fell  upon  the  young  men,  and  they  are  dead  ; 
and  I  only  am  escaped  alone  to  tell  thee." 

Horrors  and  madness  !  Who  can  believe  that  God 
takes  care  of  his  children  after  this?  Welcome  athe- 
ism and  infidelity  !  Why  not?  What  good  does  it  do 
to  serve  God  and  be  honest,  if  such  are  the  returns? 
Who  makes  money  in  this  world?" — none  but  good 
men?  Nay,  verily  !  We  should  not  wonder  much  if 
the  godless  man  will  make  just  as  much  money  as  the 
godly  man,  and  hold  it  just  as  long. 

See  this  good  man,  stripped  of  property,  bereft  of 
children,  blighted,  ruined  !  Shall  he  still  believe  in 
God?  Will  he  not  curse  God  and  die?  Hush!  and 
hear  what  one  of  God's  heroes  can  say  :  "  Then  Job 
arose,  and  rent  his  mantle,  and  shaved  his  head,  and 
fell  down  upon  the  ground,  and  worshipped,  and  said. 
Naked  came  I  out  of  my  mother's  womb,  and  naked 
shall  I  return  thither:  The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord 
hath  taken  away ;  blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord." 

The  sublimest  words  of  resignation  that  ever  fell 
from  the  lips  of  mortal  are  these.  And  more  than 
this,  they  announce  to  the  world  that  the  devil  is  con- 
quered at  the  hands  of  a  vian.  Satan  had  thorouglily 
planned  his  campaign  ;  he  had  things  pretty  much  his 
own  way  ;  he  made  the  onslaught  with  every  advan- 
tage in  his  favor,  but  he  met  his  match,  received  the 
worst  hurt  possible,  and  then  retreated  from  the  field, 
to  try,  if  permitted,  again. 

Returning  once  more   to    the    narrative,    we    read, 


THE    TRIUMPH.  133 

"  Again  there  was  a  day  when  the  sons  of  God  came 
to  present  themselves  before  the  Lord,  and  Satan 
came  also  among  them  to  present  himself  before  the 
Lord.  And  the  Lord  said  unto  Satan,  From  whence 
comest  thou?  And  Satan  answered  the  Lord,  and 
said.  From  going  to  and  fro  in  the  earth,  and  from 
walking  up  and  down  in  it.  And  the  Lord  said  unto 
Satan,  Hast  thou  considered  my  servant  Job,  that 
there  is  none  like  him  in  the  earth,  a  perfect  and  an 
upright  man,  one  that  feareth  God  and  escheweth 
evil.?  and  still  he  holdeth  fast  his  integrity,  although 
thou  movedst  me  against  him,  to  destroy  him  with- 
out cause.  And  Satan  answered  the  Lord,  and  said, 
Skin  for  skin,  yea,  all  that  a  man  hath  will  he  give  for 
his  life.  But  put  forth  thy  hand  now,  and  touch  his 
bone  and  his  flesh,  and  he  will  curse  thee  to  thy  face. 
And  the  Lord  said  unto  Satan,  Behold,  he  is  in  thy 
hand  ;  but  save  his  life."  * 

A  man  may  suffer  much  loss,  yet  if  he  has  his 
health,  he  can  recover  much.  Sound  health  is  worth 
a  fortune ;  at  least,  many  a  man,  who  has  it  not, 
thinks  so. 

But  it  turns  out  that  he  who  had  suffered  enough 
to  ruin  most  men  was  overtaken  by  a  disease,  the 
worst  then  or  since  known  to  mortals.  It  was  a  ter- 
rible type  of  the  black  leprosy  of  Syria.  The  ap- 
palling character  of  this  malady  is  such  as  almost  to 
preclude  its  description.  It  is  a  burning  ulceration, 
covering  the  entire  body.  The  hair  falls  off",  the  beard 
drops  out,  the  eyelashes  are  lost,  the  eyes  remam  open 

*  Job  ii.  1-6. 


134        '^^^^  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

and  fixed,  the  palms  of  the  hands  and  soles  of  the  feet 
swell  out,  and  friends  are  compelled  to  fly  from  the 
sight  of  the  victim.  The  mind  of  the  sufferer  is  afford- 
ed only  odd  moments  of  sleep  ;  frightful  dreams,  de- 
spondency, and  despair  prompting  to  self-murder,  are 
some  of  the  attending  symptoms. 

Satan's  permission  to  attack  the  person  of  Job  has 
resulted  as  we  should  expect.  He  selected  the  worst 
disease  known,  and  wrought  out  its  worst  type.  How 
much  like  the  devil  is  such  a  course  !  If  a  man  falls 
into  the  hands  of  Satan,  he  may  depend  upon  one 
thing  at  least  —  he  will  do  his  worst  by  him. 

Job's  description  of  himself  is  graphic.  "  My  flesh 
is  clothed  with  worms  and  clods  of  dust,  my  skin  is 
broken  and  become  loathsome,  and  on  my  eyelids  is 
the  shadow  of  death.  My  bones  are  pierced  in  me  in 
the  night  season,  and  my  sinews  take  no  rest.  By  the 
great  force  of  my  disease,  my  garments  are  changed. 
My  skin  is  black  upon  me,  and  my  bones  are  burned 
with  heat.  I  am  a  brother  to  dragons  and  a  compan- 
ion of  owls.  They  that  are  younger  than  I  have  me  in 
derision,  whose  fathers  I  would  have  disdained  to  have 
set  with  the  dogs  of  my  flock.  They  were  viler  than 
the  earth.  And  now  I  am  their  song;  yea,  I  am  their 
by-word.  They  abhor  me,  tbey  flee  from  me,  and  spare 
not  to  spit  in  my  face.  My  acquaintance  are  verily  es- 
tranged from  me.  My  kinsfolk  have  failed,  and  my 
familiar  friends  have  forgotten  me.  They  that  (Kvcll  in 
my  house,  and  my- maids,  count  me  for  a  stranger.  I 
am  an  alien  in  their  sight.  1  called  my  servant,  and  he 
gave  me  no  answer  ;  I  entreated  him  with  my  mouth. 
My  bieath    is   strange  to  my  wife,  tiiougli    I  entieatcd 


THE    TRIUMPH.  135 

for  the  children's  sake  of  mine  own  body.  Yea,  young 
children  despised  me ;  I  arose,  and  they  spake  against 
me.  All  my  inward  friends  abhorred  me  ;  and  they 
whom  I  loved  are  turned  against  me.  My  bone  cleav- 
eth  to  my  skin  and  to  my  flesh,  and  I  am  escaped  with 
the  skin  of  my  teeth.  Have  pity  upon  me,  have  pity 
upon  me,  O  ye  my  friends,  for  the  hand  of  God  hath 
touched  me."  * 

Poor  man,  we  pity  thee,  and  would  help  thee  if  we 
could  ;  strange  is  it  that  God  does  not ! 

At  this  critical  point  in  the  narrative,  a  new  charac- 
ter is  introduced  —  Job's  wife.  It  seems  strange  that 
Satan  had  not  destroyed  her  with  the  children  ;  but 
perhaps  he  had  some  design  in  not  doing  so.  He 
may  have  thought  to  use  this  woman  as  an  instrument 
in  accomplishing  his  ultimate  purposes.  He  hoped, 
no  doubt,  that  she  would  prove  another  Eve. 

It  is  possible  that  more  than  one  very  good  man  has 
had  a  very  bad  wife  ;  but  that  proves  nothing  in  the 
present  instance.  Job's  wife,  we  think,  ought  not  to  be 
blamed  overmuch.f  She  showed  some  weakness  in 
those  seasons  of  affliction,  and  who  would  not? 

Look  charitably  at  the  case  for  a  moment.  The 
losses,  we  must  bear  in  mind,  were  hers,  as  well  as 
his.  The  property  was  gone  ;  the  manly  eldest  born, 
and  the  tender  younger  born,  liad  fallen ;  and  her 
husband  was  almost  worse  than  dead.     These  griefs 

*  For  fuller  description  consult  Job  ii.  7,  8;  iii.  23-26;  vi. 
8-10;  vii.  4,  5,   13-16;   xix.  16-21;   XXX.  17-31. 

t  Spanheim  calls  Job's  wife  a  second  Xantippe.  J.  D. 
Michaelis  thinks  she  was  spared  to  Job  to  complete  the  meas- 
ure of  his  misfortune. 


136        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

and  calamities  were  hers  to  bear,  as  well  as  his.  The 
woman  was  bewildered,  and  no  wonder.  Will  not  a 
wife  sometimes  allow  her  own  name  to  be  slandered, 
rather  than  suffer  her  husband  to  bear  reproach.'' 

Stripped  of  his  fortune,  his  children,  for  whom  he 
had  never  forgotten  to  offer  God  a  morning  sacrifice, 
buried  amid  the  ruins  of  their  own  dwelling,  which  the 
fierce  tornado  had  levelled  to  the  ground,  "  the  best 
man  in  the  world  becoming  the  most  miserable  man 
in  the  world,"  presents  a  gloomy  enough  picture. 
His  wife  felt  this.  Can  we  blame  her  that  the  cloud 
of  infidelity  dimmed  her  eyesight  for  a  moment.? 

Ay,  who  is  the  Almighty,  that  one  should  serve  him, 
or  what  profit  is  tliere  if  we  pray  unto  him?  Do  not 
the  words  almost  rise  to  our  own  lips,  as  they  must 
have  weighed  upon  her  consciousness.'*  Could  this 
series  of  evils  happen  without  the  will  and  pleas- 
ure of  God?  Could  not  he  have  prevented  them.? 
Would  not  the  woman  almost  escape  our  condem- 
nation, should  she  be  left  to  say.  What  does  integrity 
amount  to.?  Does  righteousness  protect  a  man  against 
life's  ills.?  Why  does  it  not  protect  you,  my  husband.? 
They  lie  who  say  your  lite  is  not  next  to  perfect. 
You  are  a  just  and  perfect  man.  If  God  lives,  and 
loves  goodness  and  integrity  better  than  vice  and  in- 
iquity, why  steps  he  not  forth  to  your  rescue.?  There 
is  no  God  save  Fate  ;  and  Fate  is  no  God. 

It  was  this  overwhelming  pressure  upon  the  afflicted 
woman  which  left  licr  crushed-hearted,  and  which 
well  nigh  drove  her  on  to  machicss.  Ilcr  advice  was 
terrible,  but  it  docs  not  prove  that  slie  was  a  sJircw. 
Satan  seems  to   liave  taken    possession  for  a  moment. 


THE   TRIUMPH.  I37 

and  prompted  her  to  tempt  Job  with  the  very  words 
he  had  predicted  Job  would  employ  when  afflicted. 
"  He  will  curse  thee  to  thy  face,"  said  Satan.  *'  Curse 
God  and  die,"  said  his  wife.* 

Job,  do  you  hear !  The  universe  listens  to  catch 
your  answer.  It  breathlessly  awaits  the  vital  issue 
pending.  You  are  a  spectacle  for  the  angels  to  look 
at.     God's  credit  is  staked  upon  what  you  say  and  do. 

Smarting  under  his  accumulation  of  woes,  his  soul 
wrung  with  anguish,  his  face  haggard  with  frightful 
anxiety,  and  ghastly  under  a  wasting  disease,  pale, 
trembling,  and  almost  hideous,  he  rose,  rent  his  man- 
tle, and  replied  to  his  wife's  temptation,  —  "  Shall  we 
receive  good  at  the  hand  of  God,  and  shall  we  not 
receive  evil.''" 

Splendid,  thou  earth-born  giant !  A  gala  day  was 
that  in  heaven.  The  sons  of  God  everywhere 
shouted  for  joy  over  the  moral  grandeur  of  this 
conquest.  It  was  proved,  on  that  day,  that  goodness 
can  exist  in  this  world,  —  the  devil  to  the  contrary, 
notwithstanding,  —  irrespective  of  earthly  reward,  and 
that  man  can  fear  and  love  God,  when  every  induce- 
ment to  selfishness  is  taken  away.  That  is  a  victory, 
such,  doubtless,  as  God  would  have  every  one  achieve. 

The  narrative  next  brings  to  our  notice  other  char- 

*  There  seems  to  be  some  little  confusion  resulting  from 
the  different  translations  of  the  word  barach ;  "to  bless" 
and  "  to  curse"  are  both  given  by  commentators.  The  pres- 
ent connection  demands  the  latter,  though  usage  perhaps 
equally  justifies  the  former  rendering.  It  involves,  probably, 
in  either  case,  a  kind  of  parting  salutation,  as  if  she  had  said, 
God  can  do  nothing  for  you.  Bid  him  a  farewell  that  will 
last  forever. 


138        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

acters  — the  personal  friends  of  Job.  Their  introduc- 
tion to  us  is  very  beautiful.  There  is  in  it  a  kind  of 
poetic  and  majestic  tenderness. 

"  Now,  when  Job's  three  friends  heard  of  all  this 
evil  that  was  come  upon  him,  they  came  every  one 
from  his  own  place  ;  Eliphaz  the  Temanite,  and  Bil- 
dad  the  Shuhite,  and  Zophar  the  Naamathite :  for 
they  had  made  an  appointment  together  to  come  to 
mourn  with  him  and  to  comfort  him.  And  when 
they  lifted  up  their  eyes  afar  otl,  and  knew  him 
not,  they  lifted  up  their  voice,  and  wept ;  and  they 
rent  every  one  his  mantle,  and  sprinkled  dust  upon 
their  heads  toward  heaven.  So  they  sat  down  with 
liim  upon  the  ground,  seven  days  and  seven  nights, 
and  none  spake  a  word  unto  him  :  for  they  saw  that 
his  grief  was  very  great."  * 

Silence  is  indeed  much  better  sometimes  than  spo- 
ken consolation.  Job's  friends  were  wise,  knowing 
this  fact,  to  act  in  the  present  instance  accordingly. 
But  their  countenances,  nevertheless,  were  expressive, 
and  spoke  a  kind  of  language  well  known  to  Job. 
Often  this  language  of  the  face  is  by  far  the  loudest. 

Day  after  day,  these  princes  and  friends  of  Job  kept 
more  or  less  near  the  afflicted  man,  and  at  such  times 
as  the  taking  of  food,  rest,  and  sleep  allowed,  they  con- 
tinued revolving  in  mind  his  misfortunes,  investigating 
the  causes  producing  tliem,  and  deciding  upon  the  forms 
of  speech  with  which  they  would  adchcss  him. 

'*  Silence  is  a  God,"  said  the  ancients,  and  terrible 
was  it  for  Job  to  remain  so  long  in  his  presence.  The 
distressed  features  of   his  friends,  their  gestures,  and 

*  Job  ii.  11-13. 


THE    TRIUMPH. 


139 


their  glances,  were  interpreted  by  Job  as  having  a  sig- 
nificance greater  by  far  than  was  meant ;  but  they 
meant  full  enough. 

Unable  to  endure  their  silence  longer,  he  broke  it, 
and  gave  expression  to  the  agony  torturing  him,  in 
terms  startling  and  passionate.*  He  execrated  the 
day  of  his  birth,  and,  in  almost  tragic  interrogation, 
asked  why  Providence  had  not  done  otherwise.f 


*  The  following  synopsis  of  the  book  of  Job  may  be  of 
service,  especially  in  referring  to  the  different  addresses  em- 
ployed :  — 


Introductory  narrative,  .         .         .         . 

Job's  lament, 

First  controversy  between  Eliphaz  and  Job, 
"  "  "         Bildad  " 


(( 

Zophar 

Second 

Eliphaz 

(( 

Bildad 

<c 

Zophar 

Third 

Eliphaz 

(( 

Bildad 

<( 

Zophar 

Elihu's 

address  to 

Job, 

. 

Jehovah 

's           " 

. 

Conclusion, 

. 

. 

Chapters 
I,  2 

3 

4-7 

8—10 

II— 14 

15-17 
18—19 
20—21 
22 — 24 
25—26 
27—30 

31-37 

38-41 

42 


t  "  Perish  the  day  in  which  I  was  born, 
And  the  night  when  they  said,  A  man-child  is  brought 

forth. 
O  let  that  day  be  darkness  ! 
May  God  from  above  never  regard  it; 
Yea,  let  no  sunshine  come  upon  it. 
Let  darkness  and  the  shadow  of  death  cover  it; 
Let  a  spreading  cloud  hover  over  it; 
Let  it  be  frightened  at  its  own  deformity. 


140        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

Of  the  three  friends,  Ehphaz  the  Temanite  is  the 
eldest,  and  the  first  to  speak.  His  introductory  address 
is  marked  with  comparative  self-restraint  and  mild- 
ness. He  is,  in  this  speech,  a  good  representative  of 
the   true  patriarchal  chieftain,  respectful,  considerate, 

"That  night  —  let  thick  darkness  seize  it; 
Let  it  not  be  joined  to  the  days  of  the  year, 
Nor  enter  into  the  number  of  the  months. 
That  night  —  may  it  be  as  a  solitary  rock; 
Let  no  voice  of  joy  ever  come  upon  it! 
Let  the  sorcerers  of  the  day  curse  it, 
Who  are  expert  in  conjuring  up  Leviathan. 
Let  the  stars  of  its  twilight  be  extinguished; 
Let  it  long  for  light,  but  never  reach  it; 
Let  it  never  see  the  eyelids  of  the  dawn  : 
Because  it  closed  not  the  doors  of  the  womb  to  me, 
Nor  shut  out  sorrow  from  mine  eyes; 
Or  like  an  untimely  birth  I  had  perished, 
Like  abortions  which  never  saw  the  light. 

"  O  why  did  I  not  expire  in  the  womb; 
Why  not  perish  in  passing  fi'om  the  bowels? 
Why  was  I  received  on  the  knees ; 
Why  have  I  sucked  the  breasts  ? 
I  might  now  have  lain  still,  and  been  quiet; 
I  might  have  gone  to  sleep,  and  been  at  rest. 
Among  the  monarchs  and  despots  of  the  earth, 
Who  built  solitary  mansions  for  themselves; 
Or  among  chiefs,  who  abounded  in  gold. 
Who  glutted  their  storehouse  with  silver. 
There  the  wicked  cease  to  be  a  terror. 
There  the  wearied  are  at  rest. 
The  enslaved  rest  securely  together. 
They  hear  no  more  the  taskmaster's  voice. 
There  the  small  and  the  great  are  the  same; 
The  slave  is  on  a  level  with  his  dreaded  lord. 

"  Why  is  light  given  to  the  wretched. 


THE    TRIUMPH.  I4I 

and  dignified,  yet  with  a  slight  tinge  of  censure,  on 
account  of  the  supposed  sins  of  his  friend. 

But,   as  the  controversy  continued,  he  became  ex- 
tremely sophistical,  and  painfully  severe,  especially  in 

And  life  to  the  bitter  in  soul? 

Who  long  for  death,  but  find  it  not; 

Who  dig  for  it  more  than  for  hidden  treasures; 

Who  rejoice  even  to  exultation, 

And  triumph  when  they  find  the  grave. 

For  God  hath  shut  out  death  from  a  man, 

To  whom  it  would  have  been  a  repose. 

For  my  groans  anticipate  my  food, 

My  lamentations  burst  forth  like  a  torrent. 

For  the  terror  which  I  dreaded  has  come  upon  me; 

That  which  I  feared  has  befallen  me. 

I  have  no  tranquillity —  I  have  no  peace  — 

I  have  no  rest  —  I  am  grievously  distressed." 

(Chap.  iii.  Wemyss'  translation.) 

Compare  Jeremiah  (xx.  14-18),  Blayney's  version:  — 

"  Cursed  be  the  day  on  which  I  was  born  : 
The  day  on  which  my  mother  bare  me,  let  it  not  be 

blessed. 
Cursed  be  the  man  who  brought  the  news  to  my  father, 
Saying,  There  is  a  male  child  born  to  thee. 
Making  him  exceedingly  glad. 
And  let  the  man  be  as  the  cities 
Which  Jehovah  overthrew,  and  repented  not; 
Even  hearing  an  outcry  in  the  morning, 
And  an  alarm  at  the  time  of  noon. 
Who  did  not  slay  me  from  the  womb, 
So  that  my  mother  might  have  been  my  grave. 
Even  the  womb  of  her  that  conceived  me,  forever. 
Wherefore  came  I  forth  from  the  womb, 
To  experience  disquietude  and  sorrow, 
And  that  my  days  should  be  spent  in  shame.?" 


143        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

his  reference  to  the  melancholy  circumstances  attending 
the  loss  of  Job's  children.  And,  towards  the  last,  this 
pious  friend  insisted  with  almost  furious  harshness  that 
these  afflictions  cannot  be  other  than  a  just  punish- 
ment for  some  secret  sin  of  which  Job  had  been  guilty. 

Eliphaz,  like  others  aforetime,  and  some  in  after- 
time,  is  mild,  except  in  religious  matters;  but  the 
crossing  of  his  theological  track  was  the  signal  for  the 
appearance  of  a  fiery  zeal,  which  is  often  most  violent 
in  its  persecutions.  Some  men  would  do  ^quite  well 
but  for  their  religion. 

Bildad  the  Shuhite  is  the  second  friend  mentioned. 
From  the  start  he  attacked  Job  with  keenness  sharper 
than  that  of  Eliphaz.  He  is  eloquent  and  tragic  ;  in 
a  few  passages,  his  descriptions  are  wrought  up  to  the 
highest  pitch  of  terror.  He  is  less  original  than  Eli- 
phaz, and  far  less  delicate.  His  expressions  are  often 
needlessly  provoking  and  tantalizing.  At  times  his 
charges  upon  Job  are  furious  and  awful. 

Zophar,  the  third  friend,  presents  strange  diversities 
of  character.  He  appears,  at  times,  to  be  well  nigh 
destitute  of  good  sense,  and  mindless  as  to  the  propri- 
ety of  things.  He  appears  to  delight  in  pointing  out 
the  effect  of  disease  upon  Job's  countenance,  which 
was  needless  and  invidious. 

On  the  other  hand,  his  discourses  upon  the  divine 
attributes  are  masterpieces  of  the  grand  and  sublime. 
The  vividness,  too,  with  which  the  regulating  and 
controlling  hand  of  Providence  in  the  affairs  of  men 
is  depicted  has  rarely  been  equalled.  He  touched, 
however,  upon  nothing  which  had  not  been  presented 
by  the    others.     Taking    his    direction    from    Eliphaz 


THE    TRIUMPH.  1 43 

chiefly,  be  was  prepared,  by  wbat  preceded,  to  pester 
his  friend  without  mercy.  He  is  the  representative 
of  a  prejudiced,  and,  in  some  respects,  narrow-minded 
bigot.  He  is  an  inveterate  accuser.  He  repeated  and 
exaggerated  to  the  extreme  what  the  others  had  said. 
At  certain  points,  he  seems  cold,  cruel,  and  heartless. 
It  is  not  intended,  doubtless,  but  is  based  upon  misap- 
prehension and  mistaken  zeal.  The  zeal  of  Zophar 
for  the  truth  of  God  was  indeed  very  great,  for  which, 
however,  he  got  no  thanks.  God  wants  something 
besides  zeal  in  his  service.* 

It  was  the  very  well-meant  but  wretched  consolation 
of  these  men  which  put  Job  to  the  severest  test.  No 
other  affliction  seems  to  have  equalled  this.  The  friends 
meant  well  enough,  like  others,  but,  like  others,  were 
deluded.  Their  bad  theology  got  the  better  of  both 
their  heads  and  hearts,  and  led  them  into  mistakes 
which  were  well  nigh  the  ruin  of  the  man  whom  they 
had  come  to  console.  Not  until  the  arrival  of  these 
friends  was  Job's  self-composure,  which  had  hitherto 
successfully  withstood  every  kind  of  assault  made 
upon  it,  in  the  least  disturbed.  There  were  heard  no 
complaints  of  injustice  ;  there  were  no  questionings 
respecting  the  ways  of  Providence  before  this ;  but 
sick  in  body  and  sick  in  mind,  and  then  presented  by 
his  friends  with  a  cast-iron  creed,  and  condemned  be- 
cause he  would  not  accept  and  self-apply  it,  he  was 
betrayed  into  saying  some  things  which,  it  is  true,  had 
much  better  been  left  unsaid. 

The  creed  of  these  Arabian  princes  was  in  iheir 
time  general  and  popular.     The  Jewish  people  after- 

*  Psalms  Ixix.  9.    John  ii.  17. 


144        "^^^  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

wards  adopted  it.  Job  himself  had  held  and  taught 
it.  And  it  is  a  little  singular,  even  in  our  day,  not- 
withstanding the  light  with  which  Christianity  has 
flooded  this  world,  that  not  a  few  rise  up  as  its  advo- 
cates. Certain  positions  in  this  creed  are  the  follow- 
ing: There  is  an  exact  and  uniform  correspondence 
between  sin  and  its  punishment.  Afflictions  come 
because  men  have  sinned.  Misery  always  implies 
guilt.  There  is  righteous  retribution  in  this  life, 
ounce  for  ounce ;  so  much  goodness,  then  so  much 
happiness  ;  so  much  sin,  so  much  suffering. 

Each  of  the  friends,  in  turn,  reiterated  these  points. 
Eliphaz  introduced,  them,  and  made  an  implied  ap- 
plication to  Job. 

"  Remember,  I  pray  thee,  who  ever  perished,  being 
innocent?  or  where  were  the  righteous  cut  off?  Even 
as  I  have  seen,  they  that  plough  iniquity,  and  sow 
wickedness,  reap  the  same.  By  the  blast  of  God  they 
perish,  and  by  the  breath  of  his  nostrils  are  they  con- 
sumed."    (Chap.  iv.  7-9.) 

"I  have  seen  the  foolish  taking  root:  but  suddenly 
I  cursed  his  habitation.  His  children  are  far  from 
safety,  and  they  are  crushed  in  the  gate,  neither  is 
there  any  to  deliver  them  ;  whose  harvest  the  hungry 
eateth  up,  and  taketh  it  even  out  of  the  thorns,  and 
the  robber  swalloweth  up  their  substance.  Affliction 
Cometh  not  forth  of  the  dust,  neither  doth  trouble 
spring  out  of  the  ground."  *      (Chap.  v.  3-6.) 

*  The  following  is  Bildad's  statement  of  the  creed,  and  its 
application  to  Job,  by  implication  at  least:  — 

"Examine,  I  pray  thee,  former  generations; 
Inforni  thyself  of  the  wisdom  of  their  ancestors: 


THE    TRIUMPH.  I45 

Job,  in  the  mean  time,  had  confessed  his  common 
human  frailty;  but  that  these  dire  misfortunes  had 
come  upon  him  in  consequence  of  his  sin,  —  he  knew 
better.     He  repelled  their  insinuations  with  indigna- 

(For  we  are  but  of  yesterday,  and  have  no  experience; 
Our  days  on  the  earth  are  but  a  shadow.) 
Shall  they  not  teach  thee  and  instruct  thee, 
And  from  the  heart  utter  maxims  like  these?  — 

"  '  Can  the  papyrus  grow  without  water? 
Can  the  buh'ush  grow  without  moisture? 
While  it  is  yet  shooting,  it  languishes. 
And  withers  before  it  has  perfected  its  herbage: 
Such  are  the  paths  of  all  that  forget  God; 
So  perisheth  the  hope  of  the  profligate.' 

"  Lo  !  such  is  the  catastrophe  of  the  wicked, 
And  others  shall  arise  in  his  place. 
But  God  will  not  reject  the  upright, 
Nor  will  he  strengthen  the  hands  of  evil-doers. 
Even  yet  he  may  fill  thy  mouth  with  laughter, 
And  thy  lips  with  merriment. 
Thine  enemies  shall  be  clothed  with  shame, 
And  the  dwelling  of  the  wicked  shall  come  to  nought." 

(viii.  8-14,  19-22.) 

Zophar  expands  and  insinuates,  but  adds  nothing  new. 
*'  Ha !  knowest  thou  not  this  —  from  of  old, 
Since  the  time  when  man  was  placed  upon  the  earth  — 
That  the  triumph  of  the  wicked  is  soon  over, 
And  the  joy  of  the  impious  is  but  for  a  moment? 
Though  his  pride  should  mount  up  to  heaven. 
And  his  head  reach  to  the  clouds; 
Even  amidst  his  splendor  he  shall  perish  forever: 
Those  who  once  knew  him  shall  say,  '  Where  is  he?* 
He  shall  disappear  as  a  dream  that  cannot  be  traced; 
He  shall  vanish  like  a  spectre  in  the  night. 
The  eye  that  caught  a  glance  at  him  shall  see  him  no  more ; 
10 


1^6  THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

tion.  Their  charges  rolled  past  him  as  dismal  mock- 
ery. Do  you  suppose,  he  seems  to  say,  that  I  will 
acknowledge  sins  which  I  have  not  committed  ?  Away 
with  you  and  your  creed  ! 

His  place  shall  no  more  behold  him. 

His  children  shall  be  reduced  to  beggary, 

And  constrained  to  restore  that  which  he  had  seized. 

His  bones  shall  be  filled  with  secret  lusts; 

He  shall  lie  down  in  the  dust  with  his  sins. 

"Though  wickedness  was  sweet  to  his  taste, 
Though  it  was  hid  under  his  tongue, 
Though  he  indulged  it,  and  would  not  give  it  up, 
But  would  retain  it  still  in  his  palate, 
His  food  shall  be  changed  in  his  bowels. 
To  the  gall  of  asps  in  his  stomach. 
He  shall  vomit  the  wealth  which  he  devoured; 
God  shall  expel  it  from  his  bowels. 
He  shall  suck  the  poison  of  asps; 
The  tongue  of  the  viper  shall  destroy  him. 
He  shall  no  more  behold  the  brooks. 
The  streams  flowing  with  milk  and  honey. 
What  he  seized  he  shall  restore  without  reservation. 
Nor  shall  he  enjoy  the  wealth  he  had  acquired. 

"Because  he  oppressed  the  orphans  of  the  poor. 
And  pulled  down  houses  which  he  had  not  built; 
Because  his  appetite  could  not  be  satisfied, 
Nor  did  he  refuse  anything  to  his  lusts; 
He  set  no  bounds  to  his  voracity; 
Therefore  his  happiness  shall  not  be  permanent. 
Amidst  the  fulness  of  his  tyranny  he  shall  be  in  straits ; 
All  manner  of  distress  shall  come  upon  him. 
Even  when  his  appetite  is  satiated, 
God  shall  send  on  him  the  fury  of  his  wrath, 
And  rain  it  upon  him  while  he  is  eating. 
Should  he  flee  from  the  iron  weapon, 
The  bow  of  brass  shall  strike  him  through  ; 


THE    TRIUMPH.  I47 

Job  acknowledged  that,  sooner  or  later,  the  wicked 
are  brought  to  justice,  but  insisted,  nevertheless,  with- 
out qualification,  that  in  the  short  run,  at  least,  there 
is  not,  in  this  life,  anything  like  a  just  distribution  of 
rewards  and  punishments.* 

The  arrow  shall  pierce  through  his  body, 

The  glittering  shaft  through  his  gall. 

He  shall  die,  oppressed  with  terrors ; 

Calamities  of  all  kinds  are  treasured  up  for  him. 

A  fire  unblown  shall  consume  him; 

What  remained  in  his  tent  shall  be  destroyed. 

The  heaven  shall  reveal  his  iniquity, 

The  earth  shall  rise  up  against  him. 

The  increase  of  his  house  shall  roll  away, 

Like  torrents,  in  the  day  of  indignation. 

Such  is  the  portion  of  the  wicked  from  God, 

And  such  his  heritage  from  the  Deity."      (xx.  4-30.) 

*  "It  is  a  singular   thing,  that  I   should  come  to  this 

conclusion, 
*That  God  punishes  alike  the  innocent  and  guilty.* 
Though  he  slays  fools  with  his  scourge, 
He  also  smiles  at  the  calamities  of  the  just. 
He  abandons  a  land  to  the  violence  of  the  wicked; 
The  face  of  their  judges  is  hoodwinked, 
That  they  turn  not  to  say.  Who  has  done  this  ?  " 

(ix.  22-24.) 
"The  tents  of  plunderers  are  secure; 
Secure  are  the  abodes  of  them  who  provoke  God, 
Whose  power  is  to  them  instead  of  a  God. 
But  now,  inquire  of  the  beasts,  and  they  will  teach  you, 
And  the  fowls  of  the  air,  and  they  will  explain  to  you, 
And  the  shrubs  of  the  earth,  and  they  will  show  you, 
And  the  fishes  of  the  sea  will  declare  it  to  you : 
Who  amongst  all  these  does  not  know. 
That  all  things  are  arranged  by  the  power  of  God.? 


148         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

Failing  to  convince  Job  of  the  unqualified  truth  of 
their  creed,  and  not  succeeding,  through  these  gentler 
methods,  in  drawing  out  from  the  patriarch  confes- 
sions of  personal  guilt,  these  friends  proceeded  to 
make  their  own  application,  and  charged  no  longer 
by  insinuation,  but  directly  and  furiously,  upon  Job 
all  the  iniquity  which  his  aggravated  afflictions,  ac- 
cording to  their  vievys,  demanded. 

They  began  by  strongly  hinting  that  it  was  probable 
that  enormous  secret  guilt  lay  at  the  bottom  of  these 
sufferings;  they  then  advanced  farther  and  farther,  in- 
quisitor-like, until  at  length  they  told  him  that  they 
believed  his  life  had  been  hypocritical  and  iniquitous. 

In  whose  hand  is  the  soul  of  every  living  creature, 
And  the  breath  of  all  mankind."  (xii.  6-10.) 

"  Why  do  the  impious  live  happy, 
Grow  old,  and  abound  in  wealth.? 
Their  offspring  are  established  before  them, 
And  their  posterity  before  their  eyes. 
Their  houses  are  safe  from  fear; 
They  are  not  scourged  with  the  Divine  rod. 
Their  cattle  are  fruitful  and  active; 
Their  kine  bring  forth,  and  do  not  cast  their  young. 
They  send  forth  their  little  ones  like  a  flock. 
And  their  children  leap  for  joy. 
They  rise  up  to  the  tabor  and  harp. 
They  trip  merrily  to  the  sound  of  the  pipe. 
They  pass  their  life  happily, 
And  descend  quietly  to  the  tomb. 
Though  they  had  said  to  God,  '  Depart  from  us, 
We  desire  not  the  knowledge  of  tliy  ways ! 
Who  is  the  Almighty,  that  we  should  worship  him? 
And  what  avails  it  to  address  him  in  prayer?' 
Lo,  such  do  not  enjoy  constant  happiness."     (xxi.  7-16.) 


THE   TRIUMPH.  I49 

They  accused  him  with  meriting  to  the  full  extent,  and 
more  than  meriting,  the  misfortunes  he  bore.  They 
looked  upon  him  as  a  blasphemer,  gazing  upon  him, 
at  times,  with  something  akin  to  awe  and  terror. 

How  could  they  do  less?  To  give  up  their  splendid 
system  of  theology,  they  could  not.  Calamities  are 
the  fruit  of  sin,  they  reiterated.  ''  You  are  suffering 
calamities ;  therefore  you  are  a  sinner.  Terrible  ca- 
lamities are  the  fruit  of  terrible  sin ;  you  are  suf- 
fering terrible  calamities,  therefore  you  are  a  terrible 


*  As  specimens  of  these  accusations  are  the  following:  — 
"Then  Eliphaz  the  Temanite  again  took  up  the  dis- 
course : 
'  Does  it  become  a  wise  man  to  give  unsolid  answers, 
And  to  swell  his  breast  with  the  east  wind? 
To  refute  arguments  hy  proving  nothing, 
And  to  use  unprofitable  words? 
Thou  thj-self  castest  off  pietj, 
And  weakenest  prayers  directed  to  God. 
Thine  own  words  show  thine  iniquity, 
Though  thou  usest  the  tongue  of  the  crafty. 
Thine  own  mouth  condemns  thee,  not  I; 
Thine  own  lips  testify  against  thee. 
Wert  thou  the  first  man  that  was  born.? 
Wert  thou  formed  before  the  mountains.? 
Hast  thou  listened  in  the  privy  council  of  God, 
And  drawn  awaj-  wisdom  to  thyself.? 
What  knowest  thou,  that  we  know  not.? 
Or  understandest  thou,  of  which  we  are  ignorant.? 
The  hoary-headed  and  the  ancient  are  among  us, 
More  venerable  for  years  than  thy  father. 
Dost  thou  undervalue  the  Divine  consolations. 
Or  the  addresses  of  kindness  to  thyself.? 
To  what  pitch  of  boldness  would  thy  heart  carry  thee  — 


150        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

They  really  knew  no  actual  evil  in  Job,  but  they 
thought  there  must  be.  To  make  good  their  opinion, 
and  support  their  pet  theories,  they  converted  coniec- 
ture    into   certainty.     "  Of  course   he   has   committed 

At  what  have  thine  eyes  taken  aim  — 

That  thou  shouldst  let  loose  thy  mind  against  God, 

And  cast  forth  such  words  from  thy  mouth? 

Wher^  is  the  man  who  is  pure, 

The  offspring  of  woman  who  is  blameless? 

Behold,  in  his  holy  ones  he  cannot  place  confidence, 

The  heavens  are  not  clean  in  his  sight. 

How  abominable  and  impure  then  must  man  be, 

Who  drinketh  iniquity  like  water! 

"  '  Listen  to  me,  and  I  will  tell  thee  — 
What  I  have  seen,  I  will  relate ; 
Which  sages  have  proclaimed, 
As  a  matter  known  in  the  time  of  their  ancestors. 
To  whom  alone  the  land  was  given. 
When  no  stranger  had  come  amongst  them  :  — 

"  '  All  the  days  of  the  wicked  he  is  his  own  tormentor, 
And  a  reckoning  of  years  is  laid  up  for  the  violent. 
A  sound  of  alarm  rings  in  his  ears; 
Even  in  peace  the  despoiler  invades  him. 
He  cannot  hope  to  escape  from  darkness; 
Even  from  the  lurking-place  the  sword  awaits  him. 
He  wanders  about,  and  becomes  the  prey  of  vultures; 
He  knows  the  evil  day  is  prepared  fOr  him. 
Distress  and  danger  dismay  him; 
They  oppress  him  like  a  tyrant. 
He  is  destined  to  the  heaviest  sufferings. 
Because  he  stretched  forth  his  hand  against  God, 
And  acted  haughtily  towards  the  Almighty. 
God  shall  press  upon  him  with  extended  neck. 
Through  the  mailed  bosses  of  his  own  buckler. 
Though  his  face  be  enveloped  with  fat. 
Though  he  heaped  up  fat  on  his  loins, 


THE    TRIUMPH.  I5I 

sin,"  they  said.  "  Of  course,  of  course."  These 
opinions  they  felt  they  must  cling  to,  though  the  heav- 
ens fall.  To  defend  them  they  exhausted  their  stores 
of  rhetoric ;   they  alternated  between  irony,  sarcasm, 

Yet  in  desolate  cities  he  shall  dwell ; 

Houses  to  be  deserted  by  him, 

Which  are  destined  to  be  reduced  to  ashes. 

He  shall  not  grow  rich,  nor  have  permanent  wealth, 

Nor  shall  he  be  master  of  his  own  desires. 

He  shall  not  escape  from  darkness  ; 

The  lightning  shall  wither  his  green  shoots; 

He  shall  be  carried  away  by  a  wind  sent  from  above. 

Let  him  not  trust  to  his  own  prosperity; 

An  unhappy  change  shall  take  place  in  his  affairs: 

Before  his  season  it  shall  be  accomplished, 

Nor  shall  his  branch  flourish. 

He  shall  cast  his  unripe  fruit  like  the  vine, 

And  shall  shed  his  blossoms  like  the  olive. 

The  house  of  the  wicked  shall  be  a  barren  rock; 

Fire  shall  consume  the  tents  of  the  ungodly. 

Pregnant  with  mischief,  they  bring  forth  crime, 

And  carry  deceit  in  their  womb.' "  (xv.  1-35.) 

"Is  not  thy  wickedness  sufficiently  great.? 
Yea,  there  is  no  bound  to  thine  iniquities. 
Thou  hast  unjustly  taken  a  pledge  from  thy  brethren, 
Thou  hast  stripped  the  destitute  of  their  garments. 
Thou  hast  not  refreshed  with  water  the  weary, 
Thou  hast  refused  bread  to  the  hungry. 
Thou  hast  suff"ered  the  man  of  power  to  seize  the  land. 
And  the  man  of  authority  to  take  possession  of  it. . 
Thou  hast  sent  widows  empty  away. 
And  hast  bruised  the  orphans'  arms. 
Therefore  thou  art  surrounded  with  snares, 
And  sudden  ruin  alarms  thee. 
Thy  light  is  changed  into  darkness, 
And  a  flood  of  waters  covers  thee. 


152        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

and  crimination ;  they  appealed  to  experience  and 
antiquity ;  they  explored  all  the  wealth  of  Arabian 
wisdom,  employing  trite  maxims  and  sage  sentences, 

Truly,  God  is  higher  than  the  heavens, 

And  sees  the  topmost  stars,  however  lofty : 

How  then  dost  thou  say,  '  Can  God  know? 

Can   he   discern   those  things  which    are   transacted  in 

darkness? 
Thick  clouds  enclose  him,  that  he  cannot  see; 
He  walks  on  the  convexity  of  the  heavens.' 

"  Hast  thou  observed  the  ancient  tract, 
Which  was  trodden  by  wicked  mortals ; 
Who  perished  by  a  sudden  death. 
Whose  foundation  is  a  molten  flood? 
Who  said  to  God,  '  Depart  from  us,  — 
What  can  the  Almighty  do  to  us?' 
Though  he  had  filled  their  houses  with  wealth. 
(Far  from  me  be  their  wicked  conduct!) 
The  righteous  beheld  and  rejoiced; 
The  innocent  derided  them,  saying, 
'  Surely  their  substance  was  carried  away, 
And  a  fire  consumed  their  riches.' 

"Turn  therefore  to  Him,  and  be  an  upright  man; 
So  shalt  thou  have  abundant  produce. 
Receive  the  law  from  his  mouth, 
And  store  up  his  sayings  in  thy  mind. 
If  thou  return  to  the  Almighty,  thou  shalt  be  restored. 
If  thou  put  away  all  iniquity  from  thy  tent." 

(xxii.  5-23.) 

''Then  Bildad  of  Shuah  interposed  and  said: 
*  How  long  wilt  thou  utter  such  things, 
And  thy  sayings  burst  forth  like  an  impetuous  wind? 
Will  God  pervert  justice? 

Will  the  Almighty  pass  an  unrighteous  judgment? 
If  thy  children  have  sinned  against  him, 
He  hath  cast  themofl'on  account  of  tiicir  transgressions. 


THE    TRIUMPH.  I53 

adorning  them  with  the  aptest  and  most  beautiful  met- 
aphor and  poetry. 
Job,   on   the  other  hand,   continued   to   repel  their 

If  thou  wouldst  seek  betimes  unto  God, 

And  make  thy  supplication  to  the  Almighty, 

Provided  thou  wert  just  and  upright, 

Even  yet  he  would  rise  up  for  thee, 

And  prosper  the  abode  of  thine  integrity; 

And  though  thy  beginning  were  small. 

Thy  latter  end  would  be  very  prosperous."    (viii.  I-7-) 

''  How  long  will  je  discourse  captiously.? 
Be  temperate ;  and  then  let  us  speak. 
Why  dost  thou  regard  us  as  brutes? 
Why  should  we  appear  contemptible  before  thee? 
Thou  tearest  thyself  in  thy  fury : 
Shall  the  earth  be  deserted  for  thee? 
Shall  the  rocks  be  removed  from  their  place? 
The  light  of  the  wicked  shall  be  extinguished; 
The  tlame  of  his  fire  shall  not  shine. 
Daylight  shall  be  darkness  in  his  tent; 
'  His  lamp  shall  be  extinguished  over  him. 
The  steps  of  his  strength  shall  be  straitened, 
His  own  counsel  shall  subvert  him. 
He  is  caught  by  the  feet  in  a  pitfall; 
Perfidious  snares  encompass  him. 
The  trap  shall  lay  hold  of  his  heel. 
It  shall  fasten  thoroughly  upon  him. 
A  cord  is  hid  for  him  in  the  ground. 
And  a  gin  under  his  path. 
Terrors  await  him  on  all  sides, 
They  force  him  to  retrace  his  steps. 
His  strength  shall  be  enfeebled  by  hunger. 
Destruction  shall  march  at  his  side. 
The  first-born  of  death  shall  devoui-  his  skin. 
It  shall  greedily  feed  on  his  members. 


154        '^^^^  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

charges ;  he  answered  back  by  appealing  to  history 
and  experience  ;  he  argued  his  case  vehemently  ;  he 
chastised  his  opponents  with  keen  irony  (xii.  2)  ;  then 

Confidence  shall  be  expelled  from  his  dwelling, 

Terror  shall  seize  him  as  a  king. 

It  will  make  its  abode  in  his  tent, 

Nor  shall  anything  be  left  there. 

Sulphur  shall  be  rained  upon  his  dwelling. 

Below,  his  roots  shall  be  dried  up; 

Above,  his  branches  shall  be  withered. 

His  memory  shall  be  effaced  from  the  land. 

And  no  trace  of  him  found  among  foreigners. 

They  shall  drive  him  from  daylight  into  darkness, 

And  hunt  him  out  of  the  world. 

He  shall  have  neither   son    nor  kinsman    amongst    his 

people. 
Nor  nny  one  remaining  amongst  his  possessions. 
The  west  shall  be  astonished  at  his  end, 
The  east  shall  be  panic-struck. 
Such  are  the  dwellings  of  the  impious  man; 
Such  the  state  of  him  who  despises  God."      (xviii.  i-2i.) 
"Then    Zophar    the  Naamathite   answered    in    these 

terms  : 
'  He  who  speaketh  much  should  be  replied  to, 
Otherwise  the  talkative  man  would  appear  to  be  right. 
If  others  heard  thy  boasting  in  silence, 
Thou  mightest  mock  on  without  contradiction. 
Thou  sayest,  "My  conscience  is  clear. 
And  I  am  pure  in  thine  eyes,"  (addressing  God.) 
I  wish  God  would  indeed  speak  to  thee. 
And  open  his  lips  against  thee; 

That  he  would  unfold  to  thee  the  secrets  of  wisdom  : 
Then  wouldst  thou  have  double  reason  to  remain  tranquil ; 
Then  thou  wouldst  know  that  God  hath  forborne 
A  portion  of  the  chastisement  thou  descrvest.' " 

(xi.  1-6.) 


THE    TRIUMPH.  155 

implored  their  pity,  and  then  declared  his  freedom 
from  all  intentional  sin,  in  language  both  singularly 
beautiful  and  impressive.* 

*     '* '  Doth  not  the  Eternal  see  my  ways, 
And  number  all  my  footsteps? 

"  *  If  I  have  acted  fraudulently, 
And  my  foot  hath  hastened  to  dishonesty, 
Let  me  be  weighed  in  a  just  balance, 
That  God  may  know  mine  integrity. 
If  my  step  hath  turned  out  of  the  way, 
And  my  heart  gone  astray  after  mine  eyes. 
If  any  bribe  hath  cleaved  to  my  hands. 
Then  let  me  sow,  and  let  another  eat; 
Let  another  root  out  what  I  have  planted. 

"  '  If  my  heart  hath  been  enticed  to  a  married  woman, 
Or  I  have  lain  in  wait  at  my  neighbor's  door. 
Then  let  my  wife  gratify  another, 
And  let  others  bow  down  upon  her. 
For  this  is  the  basest  w^ickedness, 
And  a  crime  to  be  punished  by  the  Judge. 
It  is  a  fire  consuming  to  destruction  ; 
It  would  root  out  all  mine  increase. 

"  'If  I  denied  justice  to  my  man-servant. 
Or  to  my  maid-servant,  when  they  disputed  with  me  — 
What  then  shall  I  do,  when  God  maketh  inquest? 
When  he  inquires,  what  answer  should  I  make? 
Did  not  He  who  formed  me  form  them? 
Were  we  not  fashioned  alike  in  the  womb? 

"  *  If  I  withheld  from  the  poor  what  they  asked. 
Or  have  grieved  the  eyes  of  the  widow. 
Or  have  eaten  my  morsel  alone, 
And  the  orphan  hath  not  partaken  with  me  — 
(Whereas  from  my  youth  I  nourished  ihem  as  a  father. 
And  was  the  widow's  guide  from  my  earliest  years)  — 
If  I  have  seen  any  perish  for  want  of  clothing, 
Or  any  poor  man  without  raiment; 


156        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

Thus  this  controversial  football  flew  backward  and 
forward.  "These  ten  times,"  exclaimed  the  patriarch, 
"  these  ten  times  have  ye  reproached  me."     No  wonder 

If  his  loins  have  not  blessed  me, 

Nor  himself  been  warmed  with  the  wool  of  my  sheep; 

If  I  have  raised  a  hand  against  the  orphan, 

Because  I  saw  I  had  authority  in  the  gate  — 

May  my  shoulder-bone  be  dislocated, 

And  my  arm  be  broken  at  the  elbow! 

No  !  —  the  fear  of  God's  judgments  overawed  me; 

I  could  do  nothing  before  his  majesty. 

"  *  If  I  have  made  gold  my  reliance, 
And  have  said  to  fine  gold,  "Thou  art  my  trust;  " 
If  I  exulted  when  my  wealth  was  great. 
When  my  hand  found  vast  riches; 

"  '  If  my  own  land  exclaim  against  me ; 
If  its  furrows  make  complaint; 
If  I  have  consumed  its  produce  without  wages. 
Or  have  deprived  my  hirelings  of  their  reward,  — 
Let  my  land  produce  thistles  instead  of  wheat, 
And  poisonous  weeds  instead  of  barley. 

'* '  If  I  have  looked  at  the  sun  when  he  shone, 
Or  the  moon,  advancing  in  brightness; 
And  my  heart  has  been  secretly  enticed, 
And  my  hand  has  borne  a  kiss  to  my  mouth  — 
This  would  have  been  a  crime  deserving  to  be  judged. 
For  I  should  have  denied  the  Supreme  God. 

*' '  If  I  have  triumphed  in  the  destruction  of  my  enemy, 
Or  leaped  with  joy  when  harm  befell  him, 
(Whereas  I  suffered  not  my  mouth  to  sin. 
By  imprecating  evil  upon  him)  — 

** '  If  my  domestics  were  not  wont  to  say, 
"Who  is  there  that  hath  not  been  filled  with  his  dainties?" 
The  stranger  lodged  not  in  the  street; 
My  door  was  open  to  every  comer. 

"*If,  human-like,  I  concealed  my  sin, 


THE    TRIUMPH.  I57 

that  during  this  encounter,  he  was  occasionally  exas- 
perated. Singular  is  it  that  these  friends,  who  had 
come  to  offer  consolation,  were  comforters  ("  miserable 
comforters  are  ye  all  "  ),  worse,  ten  times  over,  than 
the  black  leprosy ;  worse,  in  fact,  than  the  devil  had 
been,  and  a  much  greater  trial. 

A  greater  trial  than  the  devil  had  been,  did  we  say? 
Nay,  Satan  was  personally  in  this  last  affliction,  like- 
wise. No  more  visible  is  his  trail  in  the  losses  and 
sickness  of  Job,  than  in  this  visit  of  these  pious  but 
deluded  friends.  The  narrative,  it  is  true,  leaves  us 
to  infer  hi&  presence.  But  he  is  the  inveterate  ac- 
cuser of  every  afflicted  one.*  There  is  no  calamity 
on  earth  where  he,  or  some  of  his  minions,  are  not 
present.  God  permits,  but  the  devil  deals  the  blow 
and  God  heals  the  wound,  and  brings  good  out  of  it, 
are  the  lessons  of  Job's  life,  and  of  every  life. 

And  hid  in}'  transgression  in  my  bosom, 
Let  me  be  confounded  before  the  multitude; 
Let  me  be  covered  with  public  contempt; 
Let  me  be  dumb,  nor  dare  to  go  abroad. 

"  '  O  that  God  would  deign  to  hear  me! 
This  is  my  declaration  —  let  the  Almighty  reply  to  it! 
Let  my  opponent  write  down  the  charge  : 
Surely  I  would  wear  it  on  my  shoulder; 
I  would  bind  it  round  me  like  a  diadem; 
I  would  disclose  to  him  the  number  of  my  steps; 
I  would  approach  him  with  the  boldness  of  a  prince.' 
Thus  far  are  the  discourses  of  Job."  (xxx.  4-40.) 

*  The  word  by  which  Satan  is  here  designated  signifies 
the  Trojibler ;  and  Job,  Hi'ob,  signifies  the  Much  Persecuted. 
We  may  note  also  that  Satan  is  adroit,  often  putting  an  an- 
gel of  light  in  his  place  to  do  his  work.  In  general,  he  does 
his  meanest  work  by  proxy.     (Gen.  iii.  1-6.) 


158        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

In  some  countries  the  judge  delivers  his  severest 
sentence  with  a  curtain  drawn  between  his  face  and 
that  of  the  condemned.  In  the  most  terrific  struggle 
which  God's  children  encounter,  no  hand  or  foot  is 
visible  ;  friends  may  be  near ;  surroundings  may  be 
sunlit,  but  the  encounter  is  within  the  soul ;  it  is  a 
silent  but  awful  war  which  there  rages.  Many  were 
the  afflictions  of  the  patriarch,  and  skilful  was  the 
master  of  such  tactics,  who  brought  these  fierce  bat- 
talions against  him. 

When  Job  was  wounded  as  a  deer  in  the  chase, 
when  he  was  worn  down  and  almost  worn  out  with 
pain, — sick  as  he  could  be  and  live,  —  it  was  that 
malignant  troublcr  whose  hand  smote  him. 

When  harassed  with  his  own  doubts,  his  brain  in  a 
perpetual  craze,  and  his  soul  whelmed  in  that  mystery 
which  multiplies  dangers  and  magnifies  distress  by  as 
much  as  the  cause  is  unknown,  —  as  the  hand  which 
wrote  before  Belshazzar  was  terrible  because  it  was 
naked  and  had  no  body, — yes,  in  that  hour  it  was 
this  same  sataiiic  troublcr  who  plunged  the  patriarch 
into  the  horrors  of  nightmare  and  delirium,  this  black- 
ness of  darkness. 

And  when  these  Arabian  friends  touched  him  in 
the  most  sensitive  spot ;  when  they  attacked  his  in- 
tegrity and  good  name,  upon  which,  life-long,  he 
had  prided  himself;  when  they  piled  their  solenni 
and  pious  falsehoods  up  against  him,  mountain  high  ; 
v/hcn  he  was  assaultetl  as  a  sinner  of  blackest  heart, 
pronounced  an  extortioner  and  a  scomger  of  poor 
peojjle,  a  pretended  saint,  but  a  skilled  hypocrite,  and 
an  enemy  (jf  Jehovah, — in  this    hardest  encounter  of 


THE   TRIUMPH.  1 59 

all,  when  God  seemed  to  say,  "  This  is  your  hour,  and 
the  power  of  darkness,"  then,  too,  it  was  this  same  in- 
fernal troubler  who  was  permitted  to  give  points  and 
barbs,  destitute  of  all  feeling  and  pity,  to  those  fiery 
darts  which  entered  the  soul  of  the  "  much  troubled^' 
and  to  those  rebukes  which  were  none  the  less  distract- 
ing because  uttered  with  pious  and  religious  intention. 
Satan  did  his  worst.  Death  would  have  been  relief. 
Infidelity  began  to  raise  its  towering  structure.  No 
wonder  that  Job's  human  nature  came  to  the  surface  ; 
he  would  not  have  been  man  had  he  remained  self- 
poised.  The  language  spoken  was  fitful,  bold,  and 
defiant;  how  could  it  have  been  otherwise.?  What 
fitter  expression  could  there  be  for  uncontrollable  an- 
guish, bitterness  of  spirit  and  fiendish  torture  .^^  His 
complaints  are  the  exactest  symbol  possible  of  the 
wild,  vehement,  desperate,  and  reckless  outgush  of 
terrific   and   satanic   suffering.* 

*  Striking  illustrations  are  the  following  passages  :  — 

"  Am  I  a  sea  or  a  great  whale 
That  thou  settest  a  guard  over  me? 
O,  release  me,  since  my  days  are  vanity! 
What  is  man,  that  thou  shouldst  sustain  him, 
And  shouldst  pay  attention  to  him; 
That  thou  shouldst  visit  him  every  morning, 
And  prove  him  every  moment? 
Why  wilt  thou  not  turn  away  from  me, 
Nor  let  me  alone  till  I  draw  my  breath? 
Have  I  sinned?     What  injury  have  I  done  to  thee, 
O  thou  Observer  of  men? 
Why  set  me  up  as  a  mark  to  shoot  at, 
So  that  I  am  become  a  burden  to  myself? 
Why  not  pardon  my  transgression? 


l6o        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

The  visit  of  these  friends  was  the  crisis  in  his  trial. 
Everything,  in  those  few  days,  was   to  be  gained  or 

Why  not  take  away  mine  iniquity, 
That  now  I  might  lie  down  in  the  dust? 
In  the  morning  thou  wouldst  seek  me;  but  I  should  be 
gone."  (vii.  12,  17-21.) 

*'  He  who  from  his  whirlwind  hath  bruised  me, 
And  has  multiplied  my  wounds  without  cause, 
He  hath  not  allowed  me  time  to  breathe, 
But  loadeth  me  constantly  with  new  sorrows. 

"  It  is  a  singular  thing  that  I  should  come  to  this  con- 
clusion, — 
'That  God  punishes  alike  the  innocent  and  guilty.' 
Though  he  slays  fools  with  his  scourge, 
He  also  smiles  at  the  calamities  of  the  just. 
He  abandons  a  land  to  the  violence  of  the  wicked; 
The  face  of  their  judges  is  hoodwinked, 
That  they  turn  not  to  say.  Who  has  done  this.? 

"  Grant,  then,  that  I  am  wicked! 
Why  should  I  therefore  labor  in  vain.? 
Should  I  wash  myself  in  snow-water, 
And  cleanse  my  hands  in  purity, 
Still  wouldst  thou  plunge  me  into  filth. 
So  that  my  own  clothes  would  abhor  me. 
He  is  not  a  man  like  myself  whom  I  could  reply  to. 
That  we  should  come  together  before  the  judge. 
There  is  no  arbitrator  between  us, 
To  exert  his  authority  over  both. 
Let  him  take  away  his  rod  from  me, 
And  no  longer  alarm  me  by  his  terror; 
Then  I  might  speak,  and  not' be  afraid  of  him, 
But  at  present  I  stand  not  upon  equal  terms." 

(ix.  17,  18,  22-24,  29-35.) 

"  I  am  thoroughly  weary  of  my  life; 
I  will  abandon  myself  to  my  complaints; 
I  will  speak  in  tlie  bitterness  of  my  soul. 


THE   TRIUMPH.  l6l 

lost  ;    for    everything    was    staked    upon    that    final 
trial. 

I  will  say  to  God,  '  Do  not  condemn  me ; 

Show  me  wherefore  thou  contendest  with  me  I 

Can  it  give  thee  pleasure  to  oppress  me; 

To  reject  the  work  of  thine  own  hands, 

And  to  favor  the  counsel  of  the  wicked! 

Are  thine  eyes  like  those  of  mortals? 

Seestthou  as  man  seeth? 

Are  thy  days  as  the  days  of  a  man, 

Or  thy  years  like  human  life; 

That  thou  searchest  out  mine  iniquitj^ 

And  makest  inquest  for  my  sin? 

Though  thou  knowest  that  I  am  not  impious. — 

'* '  Elated  like  a  lion,  thou  springest  upon  me, 
And  again  thou  showest  thy  power  over  me. 
Thou  renewest  thy  tormenting  attacks  upon  me, 
Thou  increasest  thy  vexation  against  me, 
Fresh  harasses  and  conflicts  are  with  me ; 
Pray  spare  me,  that  I  may  enjoy  some  repose. 
Before  I  go,  whence  I  shall  not  return. 
To  a  land  of  gloom,  and  the  shadow  of  death, 
To  a  land  of  dissolution  and  extinction, 
Of  the  shadow  of  death,  where  there  is  no  order, 
And  where  the  very  light  is  as  pitchy  darkness.' " 

(x.  1-7,  i6,  17,  21,  22.) 

"  Hold  your  peace,  for  I  must  speak  — 
I  will,  whatever  it  should  cost  me. 
Come  what  may,  I  will  take  my  flesh  in  my  teeth, 
And  carry  my  life  in  my  own  hand. 
There!  let  him  kill  me  —  I  have  nothing  to  hope  for. 

*'  Why  dost  thou  hide  thy  face, 
And  treat  me  as  an  enemy? 
Why  break  a  poor,  driven  leaf? 
Why  pursue  the  dry  stubble? 
Thou  writest  severe  decisions  against  me. 
Thou  imputest  to  me  the  sins  of  my  youth. 
II 


1 63        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

"  Thus  far,  and  no  farther,"  is  the  constantly  repeated 
injunction  of  Jehovah.  He  interposes  oftener  than 
men  imagine.  Afterwards  tlie  angels  come  to  minis- 
ter. But  it  is  hard  that  a  man  must  fight  his  way  alone, 
when  many  another  man  might  lend  a  hand.  Would 
to  God  that  charity  were  not  so  rare  among  even  the 
best  of  folks.  Many  a  cup  of  bitterness  has  been  unin- 
tentionally pl-aced  to  the  lips  already  enough  sorrowful. 

Let  each  take  care  how  he  consoles  his  friend. 
When  the  heart  is  already  bruised  it  is  easy  to  bruise 
it  more.  The  water  that  cools  and  refreshes  at  one 
time,  scalds  and  burns  to  death  at  another.     And  it 

Thou  puttest  mj  feet  in  confinement, 

Thou  narrowly  observest  all  my  movements, 

Thou  brandest  the  soles  of  my  feet. 

Me,  who  am  already  consumed  with  putrefaction. 

Like  a  garment  corroded  by  the  moth." 

(xiii.  13-15,  24-28.) 

"  God  hath  delivered  me  over  to  the  wicked; 
He  hath  hurled  me  into  the  hands  of  the  impious. 
I  was  in  tranquillity,  but  he  disturbed  me; 
Seizing  me  by  the  neck  he  throws  me  on  the  ground. 
He  sets  me  up  as  a  mark ; 
His  archers  surround  me; 
One  transfixes  my  reins,  and  does  not  spare; 
Another  poureth  out  my  gall  upon  the  ground  : 
He  breaketh  me  with  breach  upon  breach, 
He  runneth  upon  me  like  a  giant."  (xvi.  11-14.) 

"  I  cry  to  thee  (my  God),  but  thou  hearest  me  not; 
I  stand  up,  but  thou  dost  najt  regard  me. 
Thou  art  become  an  adversary  to  me; 
Thou  makest  war  on  me  with  thy  strong  arm. 
Thou  liftest  me  up  in  the  air. 
Thou  makest  me  ride  on  the  storm; 
Then  thou  dashest  me  to  the  ground.         (xxix.  20-22.) 


THE    TRIUMPH.  163 

were  always  far  better  to  have  an  eye  that  sees  beyond 
the  present  inch.  "  There  are  more  things  in  heaven 
and  earth  than  are  dreamt  of  in  your  philosophy." 
We  cannot  tell  what  one  is,  religiously  or  morally,  by 
his  present  prosperities  or  adversities ;  we  must  hear 
what  goes  on  in  heaven  before  giving  our  decisions. 

Much  that  is  parable  hangs  about  this  world.  To 
pronounce  one  sinful  because  in  trouble,  gives  the  lie 
to  Gethsemane. 

"  Who  did  sin,"  asked  the  Jews  of  Christ,  "  this 
man  or  his  parents,  that  he  was  born  blind?"  Of 
course,  one  or  the  other.  "  Neither  I "  replied  our 
Saviour  ;  "  but  that  the  works  of  God  should  be  made 
manifest  in  him."  Earthquakes,  lightnings,  tempests, 
pestilences,  conflagrations,  —  do  they  destroy  sinners 
only,  and  do  they  come  merely  because  the  victims 
themselves  are  guilty?     Fearful  is  such  a  creed! 

Suppose  ye  that  those  Galileans  whose  blood  Pilate 
mingled  with  their  sacrifices,  or  those  eighteen  upon 
whom  the  tower  in  Siloam  fell  and  slew,  or  those  who 
are  wrecked  at  sea,  or  those  who  are  crushed  and 
scalded  in  railway  disasters,  are  sinners  more  than  all 
others  in  Jerusalem  and  elsewhere  ?  "  I  tell  ye, 
Nay."  * 

The  thoroughly  vicious  and  corrupt  man  is,  no 
doubt,  miserable  enough.  But  men  equally  selfish, 
whose  fine  senses  are  duly  gratified,  are  fairly  well  oflf 
in  this  world,  say  what  we  may  against  it.  A  degree 
of  happiness  is  compatible,  in  this  life,  with  considera- 
ble iniquity.  The  really  malignant  vapors  do  not  in- 
fect the  air  until  after  sun-fall. 

*  Luke  xiii.  1-5. 


164        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

The  good  man's  goodness,  on  the  other  hand,  is  not 
a  conthiuous  sunshine.  Inward  consohitions  are  rich, 
but  not  everything.  Wounds  smart  on  a  good  man, 
and  need  heahng.  The  poppy,  each  spring-time,  may 
well  be  planted  in  every  man's  garden.  Job  was  not 
happy  on  the  ash-heap,  the  butt  of  ridicule  and  the 
mock  of  scorn,  like  some  old  stump  of  a  tree,  "  which 
the  lightning  has  scathed,  rotting  away  in  the  wind 
and  rain." 

The  fact  is,  God  admits  men  to  his  service,  not 
upon  conditions  of  either  rewarding  them  at  present 
with  happiness,  or  shielding  them  from  adversity. 
He  sends  his  rain  upon  the  just  and  the  unjust.  He 
reserves  the  right  to  give  or  withhold.  We  ask.  Why.'* 
—  why  this  or  that,  —  but  find  no  answer.  Faithful- 
ness to  God  and  truth  "  are  higher  and  better  than 
happiness,  though  they  are  attended  with  wounded 
feet  and  bleeding  brows,  and  hearts  loaded  down 
with  sorrow."  Men  must  learn  to  serve  without 
looking  too  sharply  to  the  pay  for  it.  Their  business 
is  to  do  what  is  right,  and  ask  no  questions  as  to 
what  comes  of  it ;  be  it  one  thing  or  another,  it  is  no 
very  mighty  matter.  The  veil  which,  in  the  legend, 
lay  before  the  face  of  Isis,  is  not  to  be  raised  —  till 
the  day  after  doomsday.  God  wants  men  to  love  him, 
whether  made  more  comfortable  or  not  by  it. 

Is  that  love,  it  is  often  asked,  which  influences  man 
or  woman  to  ask  the  hand  of  another,  because  a  more 
comfortable  home  will  be  gained  thereby.  No  won- 
der courts  are  crowded  with  divorce  petitions. 

If  need  be,  like  the  Noi-semen,  God's  servants  every 
day  must  fashion  tlicir  "  sword-hilts  into  crosses,"  and 


THE    TRIUMPH.  1 65 

become  themselves  an  unpaid,  crusading  chivalry,  to 
go  anywhere  and   do  anything. 

Is  it  asked,  too,  about  trials, — the  trials  in  our 
own  hearts  and  homes?  We  cannot  always  tell.  One 
gains  not  much  by  questioning  the  unquestionable, 
especially  when  the  eyes  are  blind  and  the  ears  deaf. 

God  is  an  artist ;  the  greatest  artists  work  by  night ; 
they  shut  themselves  by  day  in  a  darkened  room,  and 
chisel  the  marble  by  the  light  of  a  solitary  and  dim 
candle.  There  is,  now  and  then,  a  ray  of  light  in  the 
deepest  earthly  gloom  ;  enough  to  show  that  trials 
sometimes  serve  one  a  good  turn :  besides  leaving  in 
their  path  much  rich  fruit,  they  leave  the  one  disci- 
plined much   more  of  a  man.* 

The  high-borns,  as  we  are  often  reminded,   unless 

*  Dr.  South,  after  showing  that  it  was  not  for  Job's  sin  that 
God  afflicted  him,  but  because  he  was  freely  pleased  to  do  so, 
says,  "  Yet  there  was  a  reason  of  this  pleasure,  which  was 
to  discover  that  grace  of  patience,  given  him  bj  God,  to  the 
astonishment  of  the  world  and  the  confutation  of  the  devil; 
whom  we  find  so  impudent  as  to  beat  God  down  to  his  face, 
that  he  had  never  a  servant  in  the  world  who  would  suffer 
such  things  from  him  without  sinning  against  him.  And 
was  it  not  worth  the  sitting  upon  a  dunghill,  and  seeing 
his  substance  scattered,  his  children  struck  dead,  and  him- 
self mocked  in  his  misery,  to  vindicate  the  honor  of  that  God, 
who  gave  him  all  of  these  things,  from  the  devil,  the  true 
common  enemy.?  and  to  be  recorded  as  a  mirror  of  patience 
to  all  posterity.''  and  to  convince  the  world  that  there  is 
something  in  virtue  better  than  possessions,  truer  than 
friends,  and  stronger  than  Satan.?  Though  this  dealing  was 
not  an  effect  of  God's  vindictive  justice,  but  of  his  absolute 
power,  yet  it  equally  served  both  God's  glory  and  Job's  ad- 
vantase." 


1 66        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

they  learn  where  poor  men  live,  and  know  the  chores 
poor  men  do,  unless  they  feel  danger,  cold,  hunger, 
war,  or  something  else,  will  have  moderate  ideas.* 
Barley  crusts  are  better  than  too  much  cake  and  sweet- 
meats. The  better  part  of  our  best  education  we  have 
no  schoolmasters  for  ;  and  that  which  most  promotes 
our  advancement  is  never  noted  in  our  text  books. f 

Good  health  is  considered  a  boon,  but  it  is  not 
always  religious  ;  sickness  sometimes  sanctifies,  health 
sometimes  carnalizes. 

"Chamber  of  sickness!     'Midst  thy  silence,  oft 

A  voice  is  heard, 
Which,  though  it  fall  like  dew  on  flowers,  so  soft, 

Yet  speaks  each  word 
Into  the  aching  heart's  unseen  recess, 
With  power  no  earthly  accents  could  possess." 

"  The  happy  periods  of  human  history,"  says  He- 
gel, "  are  its  least  fruitful  ones."  The  way  to  become 
immortal  is  to  die  daily. 

*  Emerson. 

t  De  Qiiincey  expresses  a  similar  idea  very  beautifully:  — 
"Now  the  word  educo^  with  the  penultimate  short,  was 
derived  (by  a  process  often  exemplified  in  the  crystalliza- 
tion of  language)  from  the  word  educo,  with  the  penultimate 
long.  Whatsoever  educes,  or  develops,  educates.  By  the 
education,  therefore,  is  meant,  not  the  poor  machinery  that 
moves  by  spelling-books  and  grammars,  but  by  that  mighty 
system  of  central  forces  hidden  in  the  deep  bosom  of  human 
life,  which  by  passion,  by  strife,  by  temptation,  by  the  ener- 
gies of  resistance,  works  forever  upon  children,  resting  not 
day  or  night,  any  more  than  the  mighty  wlicel  of  day  and 
night  themselves,  whose  moments,  like  restless  spokes,  are 
glimmering  forever  ab  they  revolve." 


THE    TRIUMPH.  1 67 

But  far  more  than  this:  trials  bring  man  face  to 
face  with  God.  They  set  his  house  apart  from  the 
world  for  a  season,  and  lift  him  outside  the  earth,  with 
nothing  between  his  soul  and  the  eternal.  The  crape 
on  the  door-knob,  could  it  speak,  would  say,  "  No 
admittance.  Go  on,  stranger ;  God  is  here  for  an 
hour  or  more."  Wonderful  is  this  acquired  or  in- 
spired power  of  dealing  with  appearances. 

It  is  the  shock  which  throws  the  liquid  in  the 
retort  into  beautiful  crystals.  It  is  the  earthquake 
that  shakes  down  the  miser's  old  house,  and  out  from 
the  crannies  roll  the  stockings  full  of  shining  coin.* 
No  man  knows  how  much  of  a  man  he  is  until  he 
has  been  fairly  struck. 

"  We  learn  geology,"  says  Emerson,  "  the  morning 
after  earthquakes  ;  on  ghastly  diagrams  of  cloven 
mountains,  upheaved  plains,  and  dry  beds  of  the  sea." 
Such  are  God's  opportunities  and  ways  of  disclosing 
himself;  and  marvellous  are  the  revelations  he  some- 
times makes.  The  thing  to  guard  against  is,  that 
losses,  crosses,  and  surprises,  born  of  spiritual  thunder- 
storms and  earthquakes,  leave  not  the  soul  withered  or 
withering  as  under  a  curse. 

It  is  the  tornado  that  clears  the  atmosphere,  though 
in  its  march  it  levels  the  house  as  well  as  freights  off 
deadly  contagions.  Be  patient ;  bear  the  grief  that  is 
crushing  life  out,  just  as  well  as  you  can.  More  is 
pending  than  you  dream  of.  Perhaps  God  would 
have  you,  too,  prove  that  Satan  is  a  liar.  There  is  a 
world  somewhere,  doubtless,  that  wants  a  king.  This 
which  we  see  is  often  the  type,  prelude,  and  pledge 

*  Holmes. 


l68        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

of  eternal  restoration.  At  least  we  can  depend  upon 
being  helped  to  repair  the  house,  and  out  from  the 
tempest  —  this  saci^cloth  tempest  —  a  sun  will  rise 
anon,  and  there  shall  be  no  more  night.  "  A  joyful 
issue  is  that  when  no  one  concerned  receives  ultimate 
harm  save  Satan  himself." 


Most  storms  clear  up  in  night-time,  or  towards  even- 
ing. As  with  every  brood  of  trials,  so  with  these  in  the 
case  of  Job,  there  is  an  end  at  length,  and  it  comes 
often  in  ways  unexpected,  and  when  matters  are  at 
their  worst.  A  few  things,  meantime,  cannot  fail  to 
have  been  noticed.  Job  succeeded,  at  last,  in  silencing 
his  opponents.  They  said  less  and  less,  he  more  and 
more  ;  and  in  the  closing  interview  he  proceeded  un- 
interrupted, "  with  calm  confidence,  like  a  lion  among 
his  defeated  enemies." 

There  is  found,  also,  over  against  everything  ques- 
tionable in  his  expression,  a  full  offset  of  something 
commendable.  He  asked,  complainingly,  Why  is  the 
divine  will  thus,  and  not  otherwise?  then  submitted, 
saying.  Not  my  will,  but  thine,  be  done.  He  demand- 
ed justice  as  one  crushed  without  cause,  then  implored 
pity  merely  as  a  suppliant.  He  complained  that  God 
deals  with  unmerciful  severity,  then  poured  out  his 
confession  as  a  child  to  a  tender  father.  One  moment 
the  surges  dashed  almost  over  his  head,  and  pitiful  is 
his  v/ail  of  despair ;  the  next  moment  the  waves  were 
curling  their  crests  beneath  his  feet,  and  he  reaffirmed 
his  confidence  that  God  will  make  it  all  right  in  the 
eiKJ.     At  times  he  was  irritated   and  violent;    a  mo- 


THE    TRIUMPH.  1 69 

ment  later,  calm  as  an  inland  lake  when  the  winds 
are  whist.  He  loved  his  life,  but  in  his  distress  he 
longed  for  death.  He  smiled  as  the  door  of  the  sep- 
ulchre opened,  but  started  back  with  a  shudder  as  its 
cold,  damp  atmosphere  touched  him.  How  masterly 
human ! 

A  change  in  Job  for  the  better  is  also  noticeable 
throughout.  As  the  controversy  with  his  friends  con- 
tinued, he  seemed  the  more  and  more  easily  to  tread 
his  temptations  under  his  feet.  He  found  in  them  a 
ladder  on  which  his  spirit  climbed  above  the  clouds. 
He  saw  things  clearer  and  clearer.  The  thick  scales 
fell  from  his  eyes.  He  passed  farther  and  farther  from 
his  friends,  soaring,  at  length,  where  their  imaginations 
even  could  not  follow.  Their  condition,  on  the  other 
hand,  grew  darker  and  darker ;  they  exhausted  their 
stock  of  argument,  and  were  gradually  reduced  to  si- 
lence ;  calmness  of  tone  followed  ;  and  the  storm  of 
passion  was  stilled  now  that  those  who  stirred  it  no 
longer  spoke. 

There  is  of  a  sudden  a  presentiment  that  we  are 
upon  the  threshold  of  solution.  Bildad  spoke,  and 
should  have  been  followed  by  Zophar ;  but  for  some 
reason  there  was  general  silence. 

A  new  personage  appeared  ;  he  had  been  burning  to 
speak,  but  the  etiquette  of  the  East  forbade  him.  He 
was  a  young  man,  and  wise  beyond  his  years  ;  *  he 

*  "  Why  he  is  described  as  a  j-outh  may  be  learned  from 
the  words  which  the  author  puts  into  his  mouth  :  — 

"  '  I  thought,  Let  days  speak,  and  let  the  multitude  of  years 
prove  wisdom.'  But  the  Spirit  is  in  man  [on  that  all  de- 
pends!], and  the  breath  of  the  Almighty  giveth  them  under- 


lyO         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

was  able  to  throw  much  new  light  upon  the  dark 
problems  among  which  the  others  had  blindly  groped. 
He  declared  what  was  no  doubt  true,  that  Job  had  not 
been  faultless  under  his  trials  ;  no  man  is,  or  has  been, 
such,  or  beyond  the  possibility,  under  severe  tempta- 
tion, of  becoming  almost  one  knows  not  what. 

No  man,  did  we  say?  No  man  save  one,  —  he 
of  Nazareth,  we  mean.*  A  faultless  life  from  first  to 
last  concerns  God  less,  perhaps,  than  a  constant  strug- 

standing.  Not  the  many  are  wise:  neither  do  the  aged  un- 
derstand judgment.  Majorities  are  without  weight  in  the 
church,  and  in  spiritual  things  age  does  not  at  all  carry  the 
weight  which  belongs  to  it  in  the  walks  of  common  life. 
One  inexperienced  youth,  with  the  spirit  of  God,  is  wiser  than 
loud  multitudes  and  gray  heads,  and  even  than  the  Coryphaei 
of  wisdom  without  it.  Besides,  a  jouth  is  the  most  fitting 
representative  of  a  truth  which  is  here  introduced  with  fresh- 
ness and  vigor  into  the  midst  of  the  church  of  God."  —  Heng- 

STENBERG. 

*  Elihu's  description  of  the  tempest  is  a  piece  of  almost 
unequalled  magnificence :  — 

"With  his  hands  he  grasps  the  lightning, 
And  gives  his  orders  where  it  shall  fall. 
He  commands  that  his  friends  should  be  safe, 
But  he  hurls  his  wrath  against  the  wicked. 
Truly,  at  this  my  heart  trembles, 
And  shudders  in  my  bosom. 
Hear  with  awe  the  concussion  of  his  voice, 
And  the  peal  that  issues  from  his  mouth. 
Throughout  the  whole  heaven  is  its  ilash, 
And  its  blaze  to  the  ends  of  the  earth. 
After  it  pealcth  the  roar, 
He  thundereth  with  his  majestic  voice. 
The  peals  succeed  without  intermission, 
Yet  no  one  can  truce  him,  thuuirh  his  voice  be  heard." 


THE    TRIUMPH.  I'jl 

gle  through  life  for  faultlessness.  The  parables  of  the 
wandering  sheep  and  the  lost  piece  of  naoney  are 
suggestive. 

But  this  should  be  noted,  that  throughout  that  night 
of  gloom,  even  when  reason  had  well  nigh  quit  its 
throne,  we  listen  in  vain  to  hear  anything  from  the 
patriarch  that  has  the  curse  of  God  in  it. 

Job  had,  it  is  true,  complained  —  complained  most 
bitterly  ;  but  chiefly  because  of  an  impenetrable  gloom. 
He  was  no  rebellious  spirit,  struck  down  in  his  haugh- 
ty pride :  he  was  no  defiant  infidel,  who  calls  God 
"  the  Almighty  tyrant,  whom  he  wishes  to  look  boldly 
in  the  face,  and  swear  that  his  evil  is  not  good  ;  '*  he 
was  no  stoic,  who  could  bear  because  he  inust  bear 
the  blow  struck ;  he  was  no  Titan,  contending  in  rage 
with  the  gods ;  he  was  no  Prometheus,  bound  to  a 
rock  because  Jove  had  been  displeased  and  was  the 
stronger;  but  Job  was  a  man,  —  a  tender  and  noble 
man  ;  weak,  to  be  sure,  but  continually  struggling  to 
overcome  every  weakness ;  self-confident,  it  is  true, 
but  awaiting  any  correction,  if  from  the  hand  of  God. 
He  was  ignorant  of  many  things,  it  is  true,  but  still 
a  worthy  man,  left  for  a  season  to  suffer  for  God's 
glory  and  the  good  of  others,  but  during  every  mo- 
ment of  his  trial  dearly  beloved  of  God,  as  justly  he 
should  have  been. 

The  needle  had  only  been  shaken  by  a  violent 
hand  from  its  bearings.  It  quickly  returned,  and 
regained  its  native  north.  Among  the  sublimest  sen- 
timents ever  uttered  are  these  that  sprang  from  this 
afflicted  hero's  many  sorrows,  even  when  most  sor- 
rowful.    Like   beautiful    flowers  on    the   turf  of   the 


173        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

grave-mound,  they  will  bloom,  and  bloom  on,  forever 
and  ever.  Listen  :  "  Though  he  slay  me,  yet  w^ill  I 
trust  him."  * 

''  As  God  liveth,  who  hath  taken  away  my  judg- 
ment ;  and  the  Almighty,  who  hath  vexed  my  soul ;  all 
the  while  my  breath  is  in  me,  and  the  spirit  of  God 
is  in  my  nostrils  ;  my  lips  shall  not  speak  wickedness, 
nor  my  tongue  utter  deceit ;  till  I  die  I  will  not  re- 
move mine  integrity  from  me.  My  righteousness  .1 
hold  fast,  and  will  not  let  it  go  ;  my  heart  shall  not 
reproach  me  so  long  as  I  live.f 

"  For  I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth,  and  that 
he  shall  stand  at  the  latter  day  upon  the  earth  :  and 
though  after  my  skin  worms  destroy  this  bod}^,  yet  in 
my  flesh  shall  I  see  God  :  whom  I  shall  see  for  my- 
self, and  mine  eyes  shall  behold,  and  not  another ; 
though   my  reins  be  consumed  within   me.'*  J     Here 

*  Job  xiii.  15.  f  Job  xvii.  2-6. 

X  Job  xix.  25-27.  His  magnificent  eulogy  of  Wisdom  should 
not  be  overlooked. 

"Wisdom!  whence  then  cometh  it? 
Where  is  the  abode  of  understanding.? 

It  is  hid  from  the  ejes  of  the  living; 

It  is  concealed  from  the  fowls  of  the  air. 

Destruction  and  death  say, 

*  We  have  heard  of  its  fame  with  our  ears.' 

God  alone  understandeth  its  track; 

Yea,  he  is  acquainted  with  its  abode. 

For  he  seeth  to  the  extremities  of  the  earth  ; 

He  surveyeth  under  the  whole  heavens. 

When  he  made  a  balance  for  the  air, 

And  adjusted  the  waters  by  measure  — 

When  he  fixed  a  course  for  the  rain, 

And  a  path  for  tlie  lightning  of  the  storm  — 


THE    TRIUMPH.  1 73 

is  the  embodiment  of  nobility.  This  is  the  blood  of 
no  common  man  ;  and  yet  the  blood  of  a  common 
man  is  convertible,  by  process  of  trial  and  the  grace 
of  God,  into  blood  the  most  royal.  He,  whoever  he 
is,  that  is  faithful  over  a  few  things  shall  be  made 
ruler  over    many. 

A  thunder-storm  rose  in  the  distance ;  it  drew 
nearer  and  nearer  ;  a  profound  silence  rested  upon 
all  nature ;  an  awful  peal  was  heard,  the  cloud  burst, 
and  the  majestic  voice  of  the  Almighty  was  heard, 
uttering  words  that  well  befit  so  sublime  a  speaker,* 

Then  he  saw  it  and  proclaimed  it; 

He  established  it  and  thoroughly  proved  it. 

And  to  man  he  said  —  '  Behold  ! 

The  fear  of  Jehovah,  that  is  wisdom  ! 
And  to  abstain  from  evil  —  is  understanding! '  " 

(xxviii.  20-28.) 
*  The  following  observations  will  doubtless  receive  full  in- 
dorcement  of  the  reader  :  — 

"  I  imagine,"  says  Scott,  "  it  will  be  easily  granted,  that, 
for  majesty  of  sentiment  and  strength  of  expression,  this 
speech  has  nothing  equal  to  it  in  the  most  admired  produc- 
tions of  Greece  and  Rome."  "To  put  suitable  language  in 
the  mouth  of  the  Deity,"  says  GilfiUan,  "  has  generally  tasked 
to  straining,  or  crushed  to  feebleness  the  genius  of  poets. 
Homer,  indeed,  at  times  nobly  ventriloquizes  from  the  top 
of  Olympus;  but  it /.t  ventriloquism  !  Homer's  thunder,  not 
Jo\e's.  Milton,  while  impersonating  God,  falls  flat;  he  peeps 
and  mutters  from  the  dust;  he  shrinks  from  seeking  to  fill  up 
the  compass  of  the  Eternal's  voice.  Adequately  to  represent 
God  speaking  required  not  only  the  highest  inspiration,  but 
that  the  poet  had  heard,  or  thought  that  he  heard.  His  very 
voice,  sharpening  articulate  sounds  from  the  midnight  tor- 
rent, from  the  voices  of  the  wind,  from  the  chambers  of  thun- 
der, from  the  rush  of  the  whirlwind,  from  the  hush  of  night, 


174        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

and  announcing  that  Job,  the  passionate,  vehement, 
well  nigh  sceptical  Job,  had  spoken  the  truth  ;  the 
false  views  of  his  friends  were  declared  more  offensive 
to  heaven  than  Job's  bitterest  complaints  had  been. 

"  And  it  was  so,  that  after  the  Lord  had  spoken 
these  words  unto  Job,  the  Lord  said  to  Eliphaz  the 
Temanite,  My  wrath  is  kindled  against  thee,  and 
against  thy  two  friends :  for  ye  have  not  spoken  of  me 
the  thing  that  is  right,  as  my  servant  Job  hath.  There- 
fore, take  unto  you  now  seven  bullocks  and  seven 
rams,  and    go  to   my  servant   Job,  and  offer  up  for 

and  from  the  breeze  of  day.  And  doubtless  the  author  of 
the  Book  of  Job  had  this  same  experience.  .  .  .  Some 
persons  have  voices  to  the  note  of  the  flute,  and  others  to 
tlie  swell  of  the  organ  ;  but  this  highest  reach  of  poetry  rose 
to  the  music  of  the  mightiest  and  oldest  elements  of  nature, 
combining  to  form  the  various  parts  in  the  one  voice  of  God. 
And  how  this  whirlwind  of  poetry,  once  aroused,  storms 
along!  how  it  rufiles  the  foundations  of  the  earth!  how  it 
churns  up  the  ocean  into  spray!  how  it  unveils  tiie  old 
treasure  of  the  hail  and  the  snow!  how  it  soars  up  to  the 
stars !  how  the  lightnings  say  to  it,  '  Here  we  are ! '  how, 
stooping  from  this  pitch,  it  sweeps  over  the  various  noble  or 
terrible  creatures  of  the  bard's  country  —  raising  the  mane  of 
the  lion,  stirring  the  wild  horror  of  the  raven's  wing,  racing 
with  the  wild  ass  into  the  wilderness,  flying  with  the  eagle 
and  the  hawk,  shortening  speed  with  the  lazy  vastness  of 
behemoth,  awakening  the  thunder  of  the  horse's  neck,  and 
daring  to  open  '  the  doors  of  the  fire,'  with  the  '  teeth  terrible 
round  about'  of  leviathan  himself!  The  truth,  the  literal 
exactness,  the  freshness,  fire,  and  rapidity  of  the  figures  pre- 
sented resemble  less  the  slow,  elaborate  work  of  a  painter, 
than  a  succession  of  pictures  taken  instantaneously  by  the 
finger  of  the  sun,  and  true  to  tlie  smallest  articulation  of  the 
burning  life." 


THE    TRIUMPH.  1 75 

yourselves  a  burnt-offering ;  and  my  servant  Job  shall 
pray  for  you  :  for  him  will  I  accept :  lest  T  deal  with 
you  after  your  foll}^,  in  that  ye  have  not  spoken  of  me 
the  thing  which  is  right,  like  my  servant  Job.  So  Eli- 
phaz  the  Temanite,  and  Bildad  the  Shuhite,  and 
Zophar  the  Naamathite  went,  and  did  according  as 
the  Lord  commanded  them  :  the  Lord  also  accepted 
Job.  And  the  Lord  turned  the  captivity  of  Job,  when 
he  prayed  for  his  friends :  also  the  Lord  gave  Job 
twice  as  much  as  he  had  before.  Then  came  there 
unto  him  all  his  brethren,  and  all  his  sisters,  and  all 
they  that  had  been  of  his  acquaintance  before,  and  did 
eat  bread  with  him  in  his  house  :  and  they  bemoaned 
him,  and  comforted  him  over  all  the  evil  that  the 
Lord  had  brought  upon  him  :  every  man  also  gave 
him  a  piece  of  money,  and  every  one  an  ear-ring  of 
gold.  So  the  Lord  blessed  the  latter  end  of  Job  more 
tlian  his  beginning :  for  he  had  fourteen  thousand 
sheep,  and  six  thousand  camels,  and  a  thousand  yoke 
of  oxen,  and  a  thousand  she-asses.  He  had  also 
seven  sons  and  three  daughters.  And  he  called  the 
name  of  the  first,  Jemima ;  and  the  name  of  the  sec- 
ond, Kezia  ;  and  the  name  of  the  third,  Keren-Hap- 
puch.*  And  in  all  the  land  were  no  women  found  so 
fair  as  the  daughters  of  Job  ;  and  their  father  gave 
them  inheritance  among  their  brethren.  After  this 
lived  Job  a    hundred    and    forty  years,  and  saw  his 

*  The  names  given  to  these  daughters  are  suggestive.  The 
name  of  the  first  signifies  The  Day,  —  a  fair  and  elegant  com- 
plexion; that  of  the  second  signifies  Cassia^  fragrant  and 
precious;  that  of  the  third,  the  horn  of  Amalthea,  "  v^^ith  a 
face  splendid  as  the  emerald." 


176        O'HE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

sons,  and  his  sons'  sons,  even  four  generations.  So 
Job  died,  being  old  and  full  of  days."  * 

This  sequel  is  beautiful,  and  seemingly  just  as  we 
would  have  it ;  but  restorations  are  not  always  re- 
ceived in  this  life,  and  are  but  ti  small  part  of  what 
God  intends. 

In  that  repose  of  one  hundred  and  forty  years  Job 
was  awaiting  what  eye  hath  not  seen.  He  had  been 
fitted  for  a  sphere  such  as  this  life  does  not  afford. 

Before  his  trials  he  had  been  pronounced  faultless 
in  his  love  of  God  and  hate  of  sin ;  afterwards  he  had 
added  thereto  a  wealth  of  sanctified  knowledge  that 
made  him  many  fold  more  a  man.  He  was  made  fit 
for  any  service  ;  Jehovah  on  the  spot  appointed  him 
his  arbiter  and  2:)riest.  (xlii.  S.)  Satan  had  lied  ;  he 
was  defeated,  and  balked  were  all  his  wily  and  malig- 
nant intrigues ;  Job  had  triumphed,  and  became  a 
king.  No  angel  in  heaven  could  have  done  better. 
Job  had  beaten  all  his  enemies.  Once,  twice,  thrice 
had  he  beaten,  fairly  beaten,  his  greatest  enemy  in  the 
fray.  So  great  was  Satan's  overthrow,  that,  in  these 
closing  scenes  of  the  drama,  he  is  passed  over  in  silent 
contempt,  and  left  by  himself  to  bear  the  eternal  dis- 
grace of  his  defeat.  God's  confidence  had  not  been 
misplaced.  He  was  proud  of  his  earth-born  hero. 
God  loves  heroes.  What  honorable  mention  he  makes 
of  his  list  of  worthies-t  We  need  no  longer  marvel 
that  saints  are  to  judge  the  world,  and  rule  the  uni- 
verse ;  none  arc  filter  for  siicJt  positions  than  men  who 
conquer. 

♦  Job  xlii.  7-17.  t  Ilcb.  xi. 


THE   KING. 


It  is  evident  that  there  is  a  manifest  progress  in  the  suc- 
cession of  beings  on  the  surface  of  the  earth.  This  progress 
consists  in  an  increasing  similaritj  to  the  living  fauna,  and 
among  the  vertebrates,  especially  in  their  increasing  resem- 
blance to  man.  But  this  connection  is  not  the  consequence 
of  a  direct  lineage  between  the  faunas  of  different  ages.  There 
is  nothing  like  parental  descent  connecting  them.  The  fishes 
of  the  Palaeozoic  age  are  in  no  respect  the  ancestors  of  the 
reptiles  of  the  Secondary  age;  nor  does  man  descend  from 
the  mammals  which  preceded  him  in  the  Tertiary  age.  The 
link  by  which  they  are  connected  is  of  a  higher  and  immate- 
rial nature;  and  their  connection  is  to  be  sought  in  the  view 
of  the  Creator  himself,  whose  aim  in  forming  the  earth,  in 
allowing  it  to  undergo  the  successive  changes  which  geology* 
has  pointed  out,  and  in  creating  successively  all  the  different 
types  of  animals  which  have  passed  away,  was  to  introduce 
man  upon  the  surface  of  our  globe.  Man  is  the  end  towai-ds 
which  all  the  animal  creation  has  tended  from  the  first  ap- 
pearance of  the  first  Palieozoic  fishes.     Agassiz. 

Man  was  sent  into  the  world  to  be  a  growing  and  exhaust- 
less  force.  The  world  was  spread  out  around  him  to  be 
seized  and  conquered.  Realms  of  infinite  truth  burst  open 
above  him,  inviting  him  to  tread  those  shining  coasts  along 
which  Newton  dropped  his  plummet,  and  Herschel  sailed  — 
a  Columbus  of  the  skies.     Chapin. 

I  affirm,  and  trust  that  I  do  not  speak  too  strongly,  that 
there  are  traces  of  infinity  in  the  human  mind,  and  that, 
in  this  very  respect,  it  bears  a  likeness  to  God.  The  very 
conception  of  infinity  is  the  mark  of  a  nature  to  which  no 
limit  can  be  prescribed.  This  thought,  indeed,  comes  to  us, 
not  so  much  from  abroad  as  from  our  own  souls.  We  as- 
cribe this  attribute  to  God,  because  we  possess  capacities  and 
wants  which  only  an  unbounded  being  caq  fill,  ^nd  becciuse 
we  are  conscious  of  a  tendency  in  spiritual  faculties  to  un- 
limited expansion.  Channing. 
179 


The  scrutiny  of  human  nature  on  a  small  scale  is  one  of 
the  most  dangerous  of  employments;  the  study  of  it  on  a 
large  scale  is  one  of  the  safest  and  truest.     Isaac  Taylor. 

We  have  more  power  than  will;  and  it  is  often  by  way  of 
excuse  to  ourselves  that  we  fancy  things  are  impossible. 

Rochefoucauld. 

Bounded  in  his  nature,  infinite  in  his  desires,  man  is  a 
fallen  god,  who  has  a  recollection  of  heaven.     Lamartine. 

There  is  but  one  temple  in  the  world,  and  that  is  the  body 
of  man.  Nothing  is  holier  than  this  high  form.  Bending 
before  men  is  a  reverence  done  to  this  revelation  in  the  flesh. 
We  touch  heaven  when  we  lay  our  hand  on  a  human  body. 

NOVALIS. 

*'  We  touch  heaven  when  we  lay  our  hand  on  a  human 
body!  "  This  sounds  much  like  a  mere  flourish  of  rhetoric; 
but  it  is  not.  so.  If  well  meditated,  it  will  turn  out  to  be  a 
scientific  fact;  the  expression,  in  such  words  as  can  be  had, 
of  the  actual  truth  of  the  thing.  We  are  the  miracle  of  mir- 
acles—  the  great  inscrutable  mj'stery  of  God.  We  cannot 
understand  it,  we  know  not  how  to  speak  of  it;  but  we  may 
feel  and  know,  if  we  like,  that  it  is  really  so.     Carlyle. 

Man  is  the  image  and  glory  of  God.     i  Cor.  xi.  7. 

He  that  toucheth  you,  touchcth  the  apple  of  his  e^'e. 

Zech.  ii.  8. 

And  above  the  firmament  that  was  over  their  heads  was 
the  likeness  of  a  throne,  as  the  appearance  of  a  sapphire 
stone,  and  upon  the  likeness  of  the  throne  was  the  likeness 
as  the  appearance  pf  a  man  above  upon  it. 

EZEK.  i.  26. 

Lord,  we  know  what  we  arc,  but  know  not  what  we  may  be. 

Shakespeare. 
iSo 


THE    KING. 


ONE  of  the  grandest  questions  now  appearing  in 
the  diflerent  fields  of  religion,  philosophy,  and 
physical  science,  bears  upon  the  relative  position  of 
humanity  in  the  universe.  Is  humanity  higher  and 
essentially  different  from  other  created  objects,  or  only 
upon  a  par  with  many  of  them,  and  essentially  the  same 
with  all  of  them  ?  Such  is  the  question  which  ob- 
trudes itself  into  almost  every  form  of  discussion;  yet 
rarely  has  it  been  stated  with  definiteness,  and  still 
more  rarely  does  it  receive  a  positive  and  satisfactory 
answer. 

Pantheism,  whether  in  the  form  of  naturalism,  posi- 
tivism, or  poetic  sentimentalism,  pronounces  sublime- 
ly upon  the  exaltation  of  humanity.  Man,  it  says,  is 
divine  ;  he  is  God,  therefore  infinite.  What  more  can 
be  asked  .-^ 

But  pantheism  has  this  everlasting  drawback ;  it 
proves  too  much,  and  goes  too  far.  The  waxing  of 
the  dawn,  the  waning  of  the  evening,  the  incoming 
tide  of  the  sea,  the  jelly-fish  and  polype  are  each 
divine  ;  they  are  God,  therefore  are  infinite.  So  that 
the  distinction  and  the  relative  pre-eminence,  which 

iSi 


I02        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

the  human  soul  feels  it  has  an  inalienable  right  to 
demand  between  itself  and  a  piece  of  clay,  is  practi- 
cally denied  by  pantheism ;  and  hence  its  silence, 
when  the  idea  of  relative  position  is  introduced  ;  and 
hence,  also,  the  death  of  speculative  pantheism,  anon, 
—  for  it  is  contrary  to  human  conviction  ;  it  is  a  born 
and  bred  oddity,  and  odd  things  are  not  permitted 
to  live,  though  supported  by  genius  of  the  highest 
order. 

Again :  the  philosophical  and  sentimental  religious 
schemes  of  the  day,  in  the  various  forms  of  liberalism, 
radicalism,  and  free  inquiry,  claim  to  place  the  highest 
possible  estimate  upon  humanity.  Advocates  of  these 
views  frequently  inveigh  against  the  popular  or  evan- 
gelical theology,  because,  as  they  assert,  it  degrades 
humanit}' ;  making  of  man  anything  save  the  self-reli- 
ant son  of  the  God,  as  he  is  according  to  their  views. 
They  claim,  it  is  true,  that  man  is  his  own  lawgiver, 
judge,  and  final  court  of  appeal.  They  give  him  the 
right  to  interpret  for  himself  the  truth  of  things,  and 
attribute  to  him  the  power,  unaided,  of  rising  well  nigh 
into  the  solitudes  of  the  infinite. 

While  there  may  be  much  that  is  inspiring  and 
imposing,  also  somewhat  that  is  true  in  these  concep- 
tions, still  they  leave  so  many  practical  and  every-day 
problems  untouched,  that  we  are  not  much  better  off 
for  any  instruction  received  therefrom.  We  have  to 
1)lind  our  eyes  to  much  voluntaiy  wretchedness  cxij>ting 
in  humanity,  or  else  look  beyond  the  intei  pretations  of 
liberalism.  Many  a  radical^  in  his  better  moments, 
has  confessed  sad  nn'sirivin<rs  as  to  how  the  masses  can 

o  o 

be  readied  through   modern  i)Npi-ovci)ic7its^  and   have 


THE    KING.  183 

confessed  that  while  their  machinery  can  take  care  of 
the  refined  and  educated,  it  is  not  well  qualified  to 
transmute  ordinary  mire  and  clay  into  gods. 

P^ive  years  ago,  all  were  on  tiptoe  to  see  liberalism 
work  out  its  wonderful  conversions,  regenerations, 
sanctifications,  transfigurations,  and  flights  to  heaven 
in  chariots  of  fire ;  but  after  all  its  efibrts  and  exper- 
iments, and  in  spite  of  them,  the  world  continues  to 
be  evangelized  not  one  whit,  save  by  the  old  instru- 
mentalities of  the  popular  theology,  and  it  alone  seems 
qualified  to  solve  this  grand  problem  before  us. 

Modern  physical  science  is  also  very  curious  and 
wonderful.  The  data  it  brings  us  are  invaluable. 
The  amazing  strides  it  has  taken  in  every  direction, 
within  the  last  half  score  years,  wins  universal  and 
merited  applause. 

But,  nevertheless,  some  of  its  leading  investigators 
come  to  such  strange  and  outlandish  conclusions  re- 
specting the  relative  attitude  of  man  in  the  universe, 
that  their  announcements  are  forthwith  vetoed  by  uni- 
versal common  sense.  The  tadpolean  coat  of  arms, 
which  certain  scientists  attempt  to  hang  up  in  every 
man's  house,  will  be  turned  face  to  the  wall.  We 
cannot,  on  Darwin's  plan,  inspire  reverence  for  a 
monkey ;  by  as  much  as  the  brute  comes  to  look  like 
a  man  is  it  disgusting.  Humanity  never  has  had, 
and  never  will  have,  stomach  to  bear  and  digest  such 
coarse  diet.  In  fine,  humanity  will  always  clap  its 
hands  to  eyes  and  ears,  and  rightly  so,  whenever  told 
that  it  is  only  a  more  developed  polywog.  Indeed, 
the  world  of  science  itself  is  rapidly  receding  from 
all  such  advanced  views,  and  is  slowly  but  surely  set- 


184        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

tling  back    upon  the    everlasting    foundations  of  re- 
vealed truth.* 

*  Dr.  Guthrie  well  states  in  what  estimate  man  is  held  by 
other  things,  and  what  other  things  do  for  him  :  — 

"  Infidelity  regards  man  as  little  better  than  an  animated 
statue,  living  clay,  a  superior  animal.  She  sees  no  jewel  of^ 
immortality  flashing  in  this  earthly  casket.  According  to 
her,  our  future  being  is  a  brilliant  but  baseless  dream  of  the 
present;  death  an  everlasting  sleep;  and  that  dark,  low, 
loathsome  grave  our  eternal  sepulchre. 

Vice,  again,  looks  on  man  as  an  animal  formed  for  the  in- 
dulgence of  brutal  appetites.  She  sees  no  divinity  in  his  in- 
tellect, nor  pure  feelings,  nor  lofty  aspirations,  worthy  of  the 
cultivation  for  the  coming  state.  Her  foul  finger  never  poinFI 
him  to  the  skies.  She  leaves  powers  and  feelings,  which 
might  have  been  trained  to  heaven,  to  trail  upon  the  ground, 
to  be  soiled  and  trodden  in  the  mire,  or  to  intwine  them- 
selves around  the  basest  objects.  In  virtuous  shame,  in 
modesty,  purity,  integrity,  gentleness,  natural  affection,  she 
blights  with  her  poisonous  breath  whatever  vestiges  of  beau- 
ty have  survived  the  Fall;  and  when  she  has  done  her  per- 
fect work,  she  leaves  man  a  wreck,  a  wretch,  an  object  of 
loathing,  not  only  to  God  and  angels,  but  —  lowest  and  deep- 
est of  all  degradation  —  an  object  of  contempt  and  loathing  to 
himself. 

While  infidelity  regards  man  as  a  mere  animal,  to  be  dis- 
solved at  death  into  ashes  and  air,  and  vice  changes  man 
into  a  brute  or  devil,  Mammon  enslaves  him.  She  makes 
him  a  serf,  and  condemns  him  to  be  a  gold-digger  for  life  in 
the  mines.  She  puts  her  collar  on  his  neck,  and  locks  it; 
and  bending  his  head  to  the  soil,  and  bathing  his  brow  in 
sweat,  she  says,  Toil,  toil,  toil!  as  if  this  creature,  original- 
ly made  in  the  image  of  God,  this  dethroned  and  exiled  mon- 
arch, to  save  whom  the  Son  of  God  descended  from  the 
skies  and  bled  on  Calvary,  were  a  living  machine,  construct- 
ed of  sinew,  bone  and  muscle,  and  made  for  no  higher  end 
than  to  work  to  live,  and  live  to  work." 


THE   KING.  185 

Our  purpose,  in  these  leading  remarks,  has  not 
been  to  ignore  either  pantheism,  liberalism,  or  scepti- 
cal science ;  but  merely  to  suggest  their  inadequacy 
at  solving  one  of  the  problems  most  interesting  to  us, 
and  to  account  for  their  comparative  silence  whenever 
questioned,  and  also  to  pave  the  way  to  the  disclo- 
sures of  biblical  theology  as  to  the  relative  position  of 
humanity  in  the  universe. 

In  the  first  place,  there  can  be  no  controversy  raised 
between  pantheism,  liberalism,  or  physical  science  on 
the  one  hand,  and  biblical  theology  on  the  other,  as  to 
the  position  man  actually  occupies  upon  this  earth. 
They  all  unite  in  placing  him  upon  the  royal  throne 
of  this  world,  and  place  in  his  hands  unqualifiedly  the 
sceptre  of  dominion  over  all  earth's  creatures.  It  is 
an  established  conviction  of  science  and  philosophy, 
that  no  race  of  beings  will  ever  rise,  or  can  ever  rise 
upon  this  earth,  who  will  dare  for  a  moment  to  dis- 
pute its  dominion  with  man.  In  the  line  of  physical 
existence  it  is  reported  from  every  quarter  that  the 
maximum  of  creation  is  reached  ;  the  king  is  found. 
Every  branch  of  science,  every  principle  of  philoso- 
phy, confirm  one  of  the  first  announcements  of  biblical 
theology  —  this:  that  the  Almighty,  in  crowning  man, 
has  completed  his  best  piece  of  work.  From  the  hor- 
izontal line  of  the  fish  he  has  passed  to  the  vertical 
column  of  man ;  mathematics  can  suggest  nothing 
higher.  The  principle  of  natural  selection  also,  so 
far  as  there  is  truth  in  it,  has  now  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  a  race  of  invincible  giants ;  every  crea- 
ture bows  and  accepts  the  fiat,  as  God  solemnly  an- 
nounces man's  final  inauguration  in  the  sublime  words, 


l86        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

"  Have  dominion  over  the  fish  of  the  sea,  and  over 
the  fowl  of  the  air,  and  over  every  living  thing  that 
moveth  upon  the  earth."  *  Thus  it  remains  unaltera- 
ble from  that  day  to  this  ;  six  thousand  years  have 
made  no  change.  Man,  in  his  exaltation  or  humilia- 
tion, in  his  civilization  or  barbarism,  is  still  the  mon- 
arch of  every  inch  of  this  earth  he  inhabits,  and  will 
remain  thus  till  the  end  of  time. 

We  are  now  prepared  to  seek  the  solution  of  one 
or  two  other  propositions,  which  we  do  by  the  method 
of  gradual  approach.  The  intention,  in  a  word,  is  to 
extend  our  inquiries  from  this  to  the  heavenly  or  spir- 
itual world. 

The  Scriptures  and  science  agree  that  in  the  crea- 
tion and  fitting  up  of  this  earth  the  Deity  has  proceeded 
from  lower  to  higher  forms,  the  culmination,  as  we  have 
seen,  being  in  man.  Is  it  not  reasonable,  therefore, 
to  conclude  that  when  the  culmination  is  reached,  the 
Deity  will  be  especially  inclined  to  embody  himself  in 
that  highest  form  or  object?  It  is  his  ideal,  it  is  his 
idea  ;  therefore  is  it  not  his  especial  representative?  In 
other  words,  to  say  the  least,  does  not  the  Deity  show 
himself  in  that  last  work  more  than  he  shows  himself 
in  any  other  work? 

But  man  is  the  completest  workmanship  of  God  on 
this  earth  ;  he  is  felt  to  be  more  God-like,  more  the 
representation  or  manifestation  of  tlie  Deity  than  is 
anything  else  on  eartli.  Man  is  the  liglit  of  the  world  ; 
he  is  consequently  the  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  or 
else  there  is  none. 

The  question,  then,  is  this;   inasmuch   as   there  has 

*  Gen.  i.  28. 


THE    KING.  1S7 

been  a  progressive  series  of  creations  in  this  world, 
culminating  in  physical  humanity,  which  occupies  the 
thrones  of  this  world,  why  may  we  not  draw  this  in- 
ference—  that  in  the  realms  of  the  invisible  universe 
God  has  also  begun  with  lower  forms  of  spiritual 
existences,  and  has  advanced  on  towards  higher,  com- 
mencing, for  instance,  with  spiritual  polypes,  and  then 
passing  on  through  spiritual  serpents,  and  the  differ- 
ent spiritual  animals,  the  different  orders  of  angelic 
existences,  such  as  seraphs,  cherubs,  angels,  arch- 
angels, principalities  and  powers,  and  then  culminat- 
ing his  work  in  spiritual  humanity,  which,  for  a  time, 
is  placed  on  the  thrones  of  the  heavenly  worlds,  as  phys- 
ical humanity  is  placed  upon  the  throne  of  the  physical 
world?  What  strong  confirmation  does  this  thought 
receive  from  that  marvellous  statement  of  revelation, 
that  "  the  invisible  things  of  him,  from  the  creation 
of  the  world,  are  clearly  seen,  being  understood  by 
the  things  that  are  made,  even  his  eternal  power  and 
Godhead  "  !  The  correspondence  between  things  in 
the  physical  and  spiritual  worlds  is,  by  inference,  un- 
doubtedly perfect :  upon  entering  the  spiritual  world 
we  shall,  in  all  probability,  not  be  met  by  universal 
surprises,  but  with  familiar  forms,  —  of  beauty  in  the 
one  place,  heaven;  and  of  hideousness  in  the  other 
place,  hell.*     So   that,   if  the   foregoing  inference   is 

*  The  repeated  representations  of  spiritual  forms  in  heaven 
corresponding  with  the  animal  forms  of  earth  (Rev.  iv.  7,  8) 
must  not  have  the  too  easy  go-by,  as  though  they  meant 
nothing  in  particular.  It  is  possible  that  w^e  ought  often  to 
be  a  little  less  allegorical,  and  more  simple,  child-like  and 
literal  in  our  interpretation  of  certain  scriptures.     Take  for 


1 88        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

natural  and  true,  then,  by  as  much  as  physical  human- 
ity  is  the   highest  type  of  the   physical,  we  may,  by 

illustration  the  temptation  of  Eve :  the  account  is  brief  and 
definite.  "  Now  the  serpent  was  more  subtle  than  any  beast 
of  the  field  which  the  Lord  God  had  made  :  and  he  said  unto 
the  woman,  Yea.  hath  God  said,  Ye  shall  not  cat  of  every 
tree  of  the  garden,?  And  the  woman  said  unto  the  serpent, 
We  may  eat  of  the  fruit  of  the  trees  of  the  garden  :  But  of 
the  fruit  of  the  tree  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  garden,  God 
hath  said,  Ye  shall  not  eat  of  it,  neither  shall  ye  touch  it,  lest 
ye  die.  And  the  serpent  said  unto  the  woman,  Ye  shall  not 
surely  die  :  For  God  doth  know  that  in  the  day  3-6  eat  thereof, 
then  your  eyes  shall  be  opened;  and  ye  shall  be  as  gods, 
knowing  good  and  evil." 

The  woman  yielded,  and  then  "the  Lord  God  said  unto 
the  woman.  What  is  this  that  thou  hast  done?  And  the 
woman  said,  The  serpent  beguiled  lue,  and  I  did  eat.  And 
the  Lord  God  said  unto  the  serpent,  Because  thou  hast  done 
this,  thou  art  cursed  above  all  cattle,  and  above  every  beast 
of  the  field :  upon  thy  belly  shalt  thou  go,  and  dust  shalt 
thou  eat  all  the  days  of  thy  life:  And  I  will  put  enmity  be- 
tween thy  seed  and  her  seed  :  it  shall  bruise  thy  head,  and 
thou  shalt  bruise  his  heel."     (Gen.  iii.  1-5,  13-15.) 

Now,  what  authority  have  we  for  saying  this  serpent  was 
Satan.?  The  Bible  nowhere  gives  such  authorit3\  "Nahash," 
serpent  or  dragon,  is  the  word  employed.  This  account  in 
Genesis  is  not  allegory;  it  is  plain,  straightforward  history. 
Why  not  say  that  it  was  one  of  the  lower  and  fallen  orders 
of  spiritual  existences,  corresponding  with  what  men  in  de- 
liriiim  irc7Jtcns  invariably  see,  and  corresponding  with  the 
serpent  species  of  earth  which  tempted  Eve.?  To  expose  our 
first  parents,  being  inexperienced  and  unsuspecting,  to  the 
temptations  of  the  superior  skill  and  sagaci'ty  of  Satan  him- 
self, would  hardly  seem  fitting.  May  we  not  better  suppose 
that  the  agency  was  a  serpent  imp?  There  may  be  a  deeper 
significance  in  the  repugnance  felt  by  man   towards  the  ser- 


THE    KING.  189 

analogy,  argue  that  spiritual  humanity  is  the  highest 
type  of  the  spiritual ;  that  it  is  the  culmination  of  spir- 
itual creation,  the  ideal  of  the  divine  mind,  the  com- 
pletest  embodiment  and  representation  of  the  divine 
idea,  which  speaks  the  mind  and  pleasure  of  God, 
which  is  the  light  of  that  world,  the  temple  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  there,  the  one  which  holds  the  sceptre  and 
sits  forever  upon  the  throne,  the  brightness  of  God's 
glory  and  the  express  image  of  his  person.* 

pent  trilje  than  appears  at  first  upon  the  surface,  provided  it 
is  a  symbol  of  one  of  the  lower  orders  of  fallen  spiritual 
being.     (See  Outlines  of  Christian  Theology^  p.  75.) 

*  Lest  the  point  is  not  made  clear,  pardon  its  repetition  in 
a  little  different  form.  God  has  proceeded  in  his  creation  of 
spiritual  existences  as  he  has  in  the  creation  of  physical  exist- 
ences, beginning  with  the  lower,  and  proceeding  to  the  high- 
er forms ;  a  spiritual  polype,  and  then  on  towards  a  spiritual 
man.  Quite  high  in  this  scale  of  spiritual  existence  is  angel- 
ic nature,  the  highest  type  of  which  we  may  suppose  to  have 
been  Satan.  But  angelic  nature  in  its  highest  type  is  not  the 
highest  type  that  could  be  created.  It  is  not  the  highest  that 
God  designed  to  create.  It  is  not  the  form  in  which  he  de- 
signed to  enthrone  and  incarnate  himself.  It  is  not  the  form, 
in  fact,  which  he  designed  to  place  upon  the  universal  throne, 
and  which  he  was  to  invest  with  all  the  glory  of  the  divine 
majestj^;  he  was  awaiting  a  still  higher  order  of  creation. 

The  last  type  and  the  highest  type  of  the  spiritual  creation,  if 
we  mistake  not,  is  human  nature  ;  an  elder  brotherhood  of  our 
humanit3^  The  highest  type  of  this  nature  God  pronounced 
his  well-beloved  Son.  It  was  so  grand  a  display  of  perfected 
existence  that  God  could  do  no  more  or  better.  He  pro- 
nounced this  the  first  born,  in  point  of  excellence,  of  all 
creation ;  the  second  personation  of  the  eternal  Godhead 
enthroned  itself  within  this  humanity,  becoming  thereby  the 
visible  Jehovah,  the  wielder  of  God's  sceptre,  whom  Abi-aham 


190        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

This  inference  may  seem,  for  the  moment,  a  little 
wild,  but  it  certainly  very  closely  corresponds  with 
biblical  representations.  It  is  nowhere  hinted  in  the 
Scriptures  that  the  invisible  Deity  in  the  spiritual  uni- 
verse has  committed  the  sceptre  and  the  throne  to 
angelic  or  to  archangelic  beings,  but  there  are  numer- 
ous representations  showing  that  this  authority  has 
been  submitted  to  a  type  of  humanity. 

It  is  also  revealed  that  the  otherwise  invisible  Deity 
enshrines  himself  in  this  highest  manifestation  of  his 
creative  power ;  and  so  perfect  is  this,  his  crowning 
work,  that  he  is  pleased  to  call  it,  not  his  creation,  but 
his  Son  ;  so  completely  is  this  God's  ideal,  so  perfect 
is  the  blending  between  the  Father  Almighty  and  this 
his  chief,  that  they  are  —  one. 

In  the  light  of  tliis  thought,  the  various  scrijotures 
bearing  upon  the  subject  need  no  interpretation  ;  they 
need  merely  to  be  read.  Take  the  opening  chapter 
of  the  Bible,  for  instance  :  "  Let  us  make  man  in  our 
image,  after  our  likeness."  *  The  heavenly  world 
must  therefore  have  had  appearances  which  physical 
humanity  resembles  ;  and  not  only  this,  but  the  Cre- 
ator also  says  that  it  is  our  image,  in  which  man  is 
created.!     In  former  times,  also,  as  biblical  theology 

called  "Lord,"  whom  Manoah  called  "  God,"  and  who  called 
himself  "Captain  of  the  Lord's  Hosts;"  and  later,  one  with 
the  Father  Almighty:  indissoluble  seems  to  be  the  bond, 
during  the  present  dispensation,  at  least;  the  universe  has 
found  in  him  its  chief  king,  and  tiic  throne  its  chief  occupant. 

*  Gen.  i.  26. 

t  How  could  evil  coinc  into  a  pure  universe?  is  a  question 
attended  with  not  a  little  peiple\iL_>  ,   indeed,  it  is  one  of  the 


THE    KING.  191 

tells  US,  different  types  of  this  heavenly  or  spiritual 
humanity  were  wont  to  appear  on  the  earth  to  patri- 
archs ;  or  perhaps  it  would  be  more  correct  to  say, 
that  the  prophetic  and  purified  eye  was  enabled  to  see 
what  the  ordinary  eye  cannot  see,  though  what  was 
seen  is  likewise  not  far  from  every  one  of  us.* 

The  person  whom  Adam  met  in  the  garden,  and 
with  whom  Enoch  walked,  and  with  whom  Abraham 

most  difficult  and  perplexing  problems  in  theology.  But  if 
the  supposition  is  correct,  that  Satan  stood  at  the  head  of 
created  and  spiritual  intelligences  up  to  the  time  of  the  crea- 
tion of  pre-existent  spiritual  humanity,  then  with  the  intro- 
duction of  this  new  type  of  creation,  with  a  chief  of  whom 
we  read,  "When  he  bringeth  in  the  first  begotten,"  and 
saith,  "Let  all  the  angels  of  God  worship  him,"  it  is  not 
difficult  to  imagine  that  Lucifer,  son  of  the  morning,  who 
had  hitherto  stood  first,  would  have  occasion  for  an  inexcu- 
sable rebellion  ;  if  he  rebelled,  it  is  likely  enough  that  a  third 
or  more  would  side  with  him.  It  was  not  the  invisible  God, 
but  spiritual  humanity,  with  which  he  was  contending,  and 
which  he  expected  easily  to  conquer.  His  was  the  Southern 
Confederacy.  He  had  no  idea,  at  the  outset,  there  would  be 
so  much  blood  shed,  or  that  the  campaign  would  last  so 
long;  but  having  engaged  in  this  war,  he  is  determined  to 
keep  it  up,  even  in  his  degradation  and  chains.  (See  pages 
125,  126,  note.) 

*  Perhaps  it  will  better  harmonize  with  the  ideas  of  the 
reader  to  suppose  that  Christ  was  the  only  type  of  pre-ex- 
istent humanity,  and  that  those  who  appeared  with  him  were 
earth-born  humanity:  they  were  certainly  earth-born  attend- 
ants who  appeared  with  Jesus  upon  the  mount  of  transfig- 
uration—  old  acquaintances,  really;  and  so  they  may  have 
been  old  acquaintances  who  appeared  with  Christ  to  Abra- 
ham. These  may  have  been  Christ's  disciples  in  the  other 
world  —  those  who  aforetime  had  gone  from  this  world. 


193        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

conversed,  and  with  whom  Jacob  wrestled,  and  whom 
Moses  beheld,  was  in  each  instance  clothed  in  a  hu- 
man form.  The  passages  recounting  these  things  are 
perfectly  simple,  if  we  look  at  them  as  we  should  — 
that  is,  with  child-like  simplicity  ;  but  they  are  per- 
fectly amazing  if  we  look  at  them  in  any  other  light. 
What,  for  illustration,  is  the  obvious  interpretation  of 
the  following  account? 

"And  the  Lord  appeared  unto  him  (Abraham)  in 
the  plains  of  Mamre  ;  and  he  sat  in  the  tent-door  in 
the  heat  of  the  day  ;  and  he  lifted  up  his  eyes  and 
looked,  and  lo,  three  men  stood  by  him."  The  ac- 
count then  states  that  Abraham  entertained  them ; 
and  after  the  entertainment  we  read,  "And  the  men 
rose  up  from  thence,  and  looked  toward  Sodom  ;  and 
Abraham  went  with  them  to  bring  them  on  their  way. 
And  the  Lord  said,  Shall  I  hide  from  Abraham  that 
thing  which  I  do?" 

We  next  read  that  this  Lord,  who  was  one  of  the 
three  men,  made  the  following  disclosure  :  "  And  the 
Lord  said.  Because  the  cry  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  is 
great,  and  because  their  sin  is  very  grievous,  I  will  go 
down  now,"  —  that  is,  they  were  on  the  table  lands 
above  those  cities,  —  "  and  see  whether  they  have  done 
altogether  according  to  the  cry  of  it  which  is  come 
unto  me;  and  if  not,  I  will  know.  And  the  men"  — 
two  of  the  three  —  "  turned  their  faces  from  thence, 
and  went  toward  Sodom ;  but  Abraham  stood  yet 
before  the  Lord." 

Then  followed  the  intercessions  of  Abraham  in 
behalf  of  the  city  :  — 

"  And  Abraham    drew  near,   and    said,  Wilt  thou 


THE    KING.  193 

also  destroy  the  righteous  with  the  wicked?  Perad- 
venture  there  be  fifty  righteous  within  the  city:  wilt 
thou  also  destroy  and  not  spare  the  place  for  the  fifty 
righteous  that  are  therein?  That  be  f^ir  from  thee  to 
do  after  this  manner,  to  slay  the  righteous  with  the 
wicked ;  and  that  the  righteous  should  be  as  the 
wicked,  that  be  far  from  thee  :  Shall  not  the  Judge 
of  all  the  earth  do  right?  And  the  Lord  said,  If  I 
find  in  Sodom  fifty  righteous  within  the  city,  then  I 
will  spare  all  the  place  for  their  sakes.  And  Abra- 
ham answered  and  said,  Behold  now  I  have  taken 
upon  me  to  speak  unto  the  Lord,  which  am  but  dust 
and  ashes.  Peradventure  there  shall  lack  five  of  the 
fifty  righteous :  wilt  thou  destroy  all  the  city  for  lack 
of  five?  And  he  said,  If  I  find  there  forty  and  five, 
I  will  not  destroy  it.  And  he  spake  unto  him  yet 
again,  and  said,  Peradventure  there  shall  be  forty 
found  there.  And  he  said,  I  will  not  do  it  for  forty's 
sake.  And  he  said  unto  him,  O,  let  not  the  Lord 
be  angry,  and  I  will  speak  :  Peradventure  there  shall 
thirty  be  found  there.  And  he  said,  I  will  not  do  it, 
if  I  find  thirty  there.  And  he  said,  Behold  now  I 
have  taken  upon  me  to  speak  unto  the  Lord  :  Perad- 
venture there  shall  be  twenty  found  there.  And  he 
said,  I  will  not  destroy  it  for  twenty's  sake.  And  he 
said,  O,  let  not  the  Lord  be  angry,  and  I  will  speak 
yet  but  this  once.  Peradventure  ten  shall  be  found 
there.  And  he  said,  I  will  not  destroy  it  for  ten's 
sake.  i\nd  the  Lord  went  his  way  as  soon  as  he  had 
left  communing  with  Abraham :  and  Abraham  re- 
turned unto  his  place."  * 

*  Gen.  xviii. 
13 


194        THE  AREXA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

Whatever  our  notions  of  this  interview  may  be,  this 
is  true  :  that  the  strange  being,  who  looked,  so  far  as 
Abraham  could  see,  Hke  a  man,  who  had  companions 
with  him,  who  could  read  the  hearts  of  the  men  of 
Sodom,  and  who  could  destroy  their  city,  talked  as 
though  he  was  man,  and  as  though  he  was  God.  But 
without  anticipating  too  much,  we  may  refer  to  an- 
other instance. 

Just  before  the  overthrow  of  Jericho,  Joshua,  while 
reconnoitring,  saw  a  man  with  a  drawn  sword.  So 
thoroughly  real  and  human  was  this  man,  that  Joshua 
challenged  him.  to  know  to  which  side  he  belonged. 
"As  captain  of  the  Lord's  hosts  am  I  come,"  he  re- 
plied. In  the  same  sentence,  that  strange  visitant  was 
called,  "  man,"  '-Jehovah,"  and  the  ''  captain  of  the 
Lord's  hosts." 

This  scene  is  also  in  perfect  keeping  with  the 
visit  made  to  the  parents  of  Samson.  The  one  who 
stood  before  them  looked  like  a  man,  they  called  him 
a  man,  they  spoke  to  him  as  to  a  man  ;  but  his  words 
and  his  works  were  so  wonderful,  that  when  he  de- 
parted, "  Manoah  said  unto  his  wife.  We  shall  surely 
die,  because  we  have  seen  God.  But  his  wife  said  unto 
him,  If  the  Lord  were  pleased  to  kill  us,  he  would  not 
have  showed  us  all  these  things." 

In  addition  to  these  appearances  of  spiritual  hu- 
manity on  the  earth,  another  fact  is  worthy  of  men- 
tion :  the  prophetic  eye  and  inspired  heart  have  been 
permitted,  :it  (lilVerent  times,  to  look  in  upon  the  spir- 
itual world  ;  but  they  have  made  only  one  discovery, 
and  have  returned  only  one  report  bearing  upon  the 
thought  before  us;  they  have  seen,  from   fast  to  last. 


THE    KING.  195 

a  type  of  humanity  of  the  most  dazzling  brightness, 
occupying  the  throne  of  the  invisible  God,  and  holding 
the  sceptre  of  supreme  authority ;  the  glory  of  God 
and  a  human  face  are  the  almost  invariable  associa- 
tion. "And  above  the  firmament  that  was  over  their 
heads  was  the  likeness  of  a  throne,  as  the  appearance 
of  a  sapphire  stone  :  and  upon  the  likeness  of  the 
throne  was  the  likeness  as  the  appearance  of  a  man 
above  upon  it,"  *  is  a  characteristic  representation. 
When  Stephen  stood  before  his  bloodthirsty  perse- 
cutors, he  said,  "  Behold,  I  see  the  heavens  opened, 
and  the  Son  of  man  standing  on  the  right  hand  of 
God."  t 

Throughout  those  marvellous  visions  of  the  Apoc- 
alypse also,  the  reigning  glory  of  the  Infinite  One 
uniformly  finds  its  embodiment  in  a  human  face  and 
human  form. 

Indirect  confirmation  of  all  this  is  found,  likewise, 
in  the  inspired  statements  of  the  apostle  Paul :  "  For 
unto  which  of  the  angels  said  he  at  any  time.  Thou 
art  my  son;  this  day  have  I  begotten  thee".?  "And 
again,  when  he  bringeth  in  the  first  begotten  into  the 
world,  he  saith.  And  let  all  the  angels  of  God  worship 
him."  "  Unto  the  Son  he  saith,  Thy  throne,  O  God, 
is  forever  and  ever ;  a  sceptre  of  righteousness  is  the 
sceptre  of  thy  kingdom."  J 

But,  is  it  asked,  has  the  invisible  and  infinite  God  a 
human  form  ?  Nay,  not  as  one  might  infer,  perhaps  ; 
but,  nevertheless,  he  that  sits  upon  the  throne  of  God 
has  a  form,  and  that  form  is  like  the  form  of  a  man  — 

*  Ezek.  i.  26.  t  Acts  vii.  56.  %  Heb.  i.  5,  vi.  8. 


196        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

it  is  the  form  of  a  man.  And  when  we  enter  the 
spiritual  and  heavenly  world,  and  are  thrilled  by  the 
ineflable  glory  of  God,  and  look  to  behold  the  gran- 
deur of  his  throne,  before  which  all  the  nations  are 
gathered,  we  shall  see  seated  upon  it  —  7na7z* 

We  have  reached  this  conclusion,  then  :  that  not 
only  is  the  place  of  supreme  authority  on  the  earth 
occupied  by  humanity,  but  also  the  place  of  supreme 
authority  in  the  heavenly  world,  at  least  according  to 
the  Scriptures,  is  also  occupied  by  humanity  —  that  is, 
by  spiritual  humanity. 

Before  we  can  correctly  infer  the  future  relative 
position  of  our  humanity,  as  now  met  with  in  this 
eartli,  nainely,  fallen  humanity,  it  becomes  necessary 
to  introduce  more  positively  a  connecting  link,  known, 
in  technical  language,  as  Christology. 

At  the  outset,  we  find  the  heavenly  throne  occupied 
by  a  type  of  humanity.  The  Scriptures  leave  no 
doubt  but  that  the  one  in  whom  the  second  person  of 
the  Trinity  —  the  Logos  element  or  capacity,  from  first 
to  last  (alpha  and  omega) — embodies  himself,  is 
identical  with  the  Lord  who  appeared  and  talked  with 
Abraham,  and  also  identical  with  that  being  whom 
we  call  Jesus,  who  appeared  in  Judea  eighteen  hun- 
dred years  ago,  with  this  dirterence  :  that  the  spiritual 

*  Does  this  thought  suggest  to  any  mind  the  idea  of  hu- 
miliation on  the  part  of  God?  But  the  objection  is  univer- 
sal, and  involves  too  much;  for  whenever  and  wherever  the 
infinite  touches  the  finite,  there  is  scientific  humiliation,  be 
it  in  the  fashioning  of  lilies,  the  creation  of  worlds,  the  re- 
demption of  man,  or  the  occupancy  of  a  throne  in  this  or  in 
the  heavenly  world. 


THE    KING.  197 

humanity  of  this  Wonderful  One  came  into  possession 
of  physical  humanity  through  Mary,  his  mother, 
somehow. 

Is  this  perfectly  bewildering?     Perhaps  so. 

But  the  point  of  identity  need  not  be  perfectly  be- 
wildering, if  at  least  we  are  willing  to  rely  upon  bib- 
lical fact  and  history. 

Late  in  December,  and  during  his  early  Judean 
ministry,  our  Lord  crossed  the  rich  plains  to  the 
south  of  Ebal  and  Gerizim,  and  rested  on  the  broad 
curb  of  a  well  known  as  Jacob's.  He  was  hungry 
and  athirst.  Memorable  was  the  conversation  that  fol- 
lowed between  himself  and  the  woman  of  Samaria.* 

But  nearly  two  thousand  years  before,  during  the 
heat  of  a  midsummer's  day,  by  the  oaks  of  Mamre 
the  Lord  appeared,  as  a  man  to  a  man,  and  held 
familiar  intercourse  with  Abraham.  The  words  spo- 
ken and  the  acts  performed  were  as  human  as  were 
those  at  the  well  of  Samaria.  And  Abraham  said, 
'^  My  Lord,  if  now  I  have  found  favor  in  thy  sight, 
pass  not  away,  I  pray  thee,  from  thy  servant :  Let  a 
little  water,  I  pray  you,  be  fetched,  and  wash  your 
feet,  and  rest  yourselves  under  the  tree  :  And  I  will 
fetch  a  morsel  of  bread,  and  comfort  ye  your  hearts  ; 
after  that  ye  shall  pass  on  ;  for  therefore  are  ye  come 
to  your  servant.  And  they  said,  So  do,  as  thou  hast 
said.  And  Abraham  hastened  into  the  tent  unto  Sa- 
rah, and  said.  Make  ready  quickly  three  measures  of 
fine  meal,  knead  it,  and  make  cakes  upon  the  hearth. 
And  Abraham  ran  unto  the  herd,  and  fetched  a  calf, 


John 


198        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

tender  and  good,  and  gave  it  unto  a  young  man  ;  and 
he  hasted  to  dress  it.  And  he  took  butter,  and  ir.ilU, 
and  the  calf  which  he  had  dressed,  and  set  it  before 
them  ;  and  he  stood  by  them  under  the  tree,  and  they 
did  eat."* 

During  our  Lord's  ministry  in  Northern  GaHlee, 
upon  the  eve  of  a  day  in  the  month  of  April,  he  sent 
his  disciples  across  the  Sea  of  Tiberias.  The  fourth 
watch  should  have  found  them  safely  on  the  opposite 
shore  ;  but  the  waves  were  angry,  and  the  winds  tem- 
pestuous ;  in  consequence,  they  were  still  toiling  in 
mid  sea.  "  And,"  we  read,  "  he  saw  them  toiling  in 
rowing;  for  the  wind  was  contrary  unto  them:  and 
about  the  fourth  watch  of  the  night  he  conieth  unto 
them,  walking  upon  the  sea,  and  would  have  passed 
by  them.  But  when  they  saw  him  walking  upon  the 
sea,  they  supposed  it  had  been  a  spirit,  and  cried  out. 
(For  they  all  saw  him,  and  were  troubled.)  And 
immediately  he  talked  with  them,  and  saith  unto  them. 
Be  of  good  cheer :  it  is  I ;  be  not  afraid.  And  Peter 
answ^ered  him,  and  fiaid,  Lord,  if  it  be  thou,  bid  me 
come  unto  thee  on  the  water.  And  he  said,  Come. 
And  when  Peter  was  come  down  out  of  the  ship,  he 
walked  on  the  water  to  go  to  Jesus.  But  when  he 
saw  the  wind  boisterous,  he  was  afraid  ;  and  begin- 
ning to  sink,  he  cried,  saying,  Lord,  save  me.  And 
immediately  Jesus  stretched  forth  his  hand,  and 
caught  him,  and  said  unto  him,  O  thou  of  little  faith, 
wherefore  didst  thou  doubt?  And  he  went  up  unto 
them  into  the   ship  ;    and    the  wind    ceased  ;    and  tliey 

*  Gen.  xviii.  2-8. 


THE    KING.  199 

were  sore  amazed  in  themselves  beyond  measure,  and 
wondered.  For  they  considered  not  the  miracle  of 
the  loaves  ;  for  their  heart  v^as  hardened.  And  vs^hen 
they  had  passed  over,  they  came  into  the  land  of  Gen- 
ne&aret,  and  drew  to  the  shore.  Then  they  that  were 
in  the  ship  came  and  worshipped  him,  saying,  Of  a 
truth  thou  art  the  So7t  of  GodT  * 

But,  six  hundred  years  before  the  Christian  era, 
Nebuchadnezzar,  the  greatest  and  most  powerful  of 
the  kings  of  Babylon,  in  a  fit  of  violence  and  fury, 
heated  to  seven  times  its  wont  his  furnace,  and,  while 
its  fires  were  raging  and  roaring  as  the  waves  of  the 
sea,  he  cast  therein  three  worthy  children  of  God. 
The  king  looked.     The  record  describes  the  rest. 

''  Then  Nebuchadnezzar  the  king  was  astonished, 
and  rose  up  in  haste,  and  spake,  and  said  unto  his 
counsellors,  Did  not  v^e  cast  three  men  bound  into  the 
midst  of  the  fire?  They  answered  and  said  unto  the 
king,  True,  O  king.  He  answered  and  said,  Lo,  I 
see  four  men  loose,  walking  in  the  midst  of  the  fire, 
and  they  have  no  hurt ;  and  the  form  of  the  fourth  is 
like  the  Son  of  God.  f 

It  was  also  during  this  ministry  in  Northern  Galilee, 
either  for  the  sake  of  security  or  seclusion,  that  our 
Lord  passed  for  a  time  into  the  confines  of  Tyre. 
While  there  he  was  met  by  a  poor  woman,  who  ac- 
costed him  with  words  that  sound  strange  enough  on 
heathen  lips  :  ''  Have  mercy  on  me.  Lord,  thou  Son 
of  David ;  my  daughter  is  grievously  vexed  with  a 
devil."     Passionate  was    her   appeal.     Li    her   agony 

*  Mark  vi.  48-53.     Matt.  xiv.  28-31.  t  Dan.  iii.  24,  25. 


200        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

and  importunity,  she  wrestled  as  if  of  giant's  strength 
with  one  she  could  not  appear  to  move.  Seemingly 
too  long  was  that  night  of  supplicating  entreaty.  But 
in  the  morning  of  her  deliverance  we  hear  the  Mas- 
ter say,  "  O  woman,  great  is  thy  faith  :  be  it  unto  thee 
even  as  thou  wilt.  And  her  daughter  was  made 
whole  from  that  very  hour."  *  "  And  when  she  was 
come  to  her  house,  she  found  the  devil  gone  out,  and 
her  daughter  laid  upon  the  bed."  f 

But,  many  centuries  before  this  triumph  of  the  Syro- 
Phenician  (princess)  woman,  was  another  conquest, 
which,  in  many  respects,  is  not  much  unlike  it. 

A  small  stream,  rising  near  Rabbath  Ammon,  flow- 
ing into  the  Jordan,  and  separating  North  Gilead  from 
South,  or  the  kingdom  of  Og  from  that  of  Sihon,  was 
known  as  the  brook  Jabbok.  Over  this,  at  nightfall, 
Jacob,  stair  in  hand,  passed  into  the  silence  and  lone- 
liness beyond.  There  he  was  met  by  a  ina7i.  Literal 
and  typical  both  was  that  night-long  struggle.  The 
patriarch  felt  that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  a  power 
that  could  bless  or  ciuse.  "  Let  me  go,"  said  the 
mighty  stranger,  '^  for  the  dawn  ariseth."  But  Jacob, 
though  disabled,  still  clung  to  his  conqueror,  and  re- 
plied, "I  will  not  let  thee  go  except  thou  bless  me." 
The  stranger  said  unto  Jacob,  "  What  is  thy  name.'^ 
And  he  said,  Jacob.  And  he  said,  Thy  name  shall 
be  called  no  more  Jacob,  but  Israel  :  for  as  a  prince 
hast  thou  power  with  God,  and  with  men,  and  hast 
prevailed.  And  Jacob  asked  him,  and  saitl,  Tell  me, 
I  pray  thee,  thy  name  :  and  he  said,  Wherefore  is  it 
that  thou  dost  ask   after   my  name?     And  he  blessed 

♦  Matt.  XV.  28.  t  Mark  vii.  30. 


THE    KING.  20I 

him  there.  And  Jacob  called  the  name  of  the  place 
Peniel :  for  I  have  seen  God  face  to  face,  and  my  life 
is  preserved."  * 

Is  not  the  marked  correspondence  between  this  Lord 

*  Gen.  xxxii.  27-30. 

Note  further  parallelisms  in  the  following  passages  :  — 
"  And  on  the  morrow,  when  they  were  come  from  Bethany, 
he  was  hungry.  And  seeing  a  fig  tree  afar  off,  having  leaves, 
he  came,  if  haply  he  might  find  anything  thereon  :  and  when 
he  came  to  it,  he  found  nothing  but  leaves  :  for  the  time  of 
figs  was  not  yet.  And  Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  it.  No 
man  eat  fruit  of  thee  hereafter  forever.  And  his  disciples 
heard  it."     Mark  xi.  12-14. 

"  And  presently  the  fig  tree  withered  away."  Matt.  xxi.  19. 
"  And  the  Lord  said,  Because  the  cry  of  Sodom  and  Go- 
morrah is  great,  and  because  their  sin  is  very  grievous,  I  will 
go  down  now,  and  see  whether  they  have  done  altogether 
according  to  the  cry  of  it,  which  is  come  unto  me;  and  if 
not,  I  will  know."     Gen.  xviii.  20,  21. 

"Then  the  Lord  rained  upon  Sodom  and  upon  Gomorrah 
brimstone  and  fire  from  the  Lord  out  of  heaven ;  and  he 
overthrew  those  cities  and  all  the  plain,  and  all  the  inhab- 
itants of  the  cities,  and  that  which  grew  upon  the  ground." 
Gen.  xix.  24,  25. 


"Then  said  Jesus  unto  them  again.  Verily,  verily,  I  say 
unto  you,  I  am  the  door  of  the  sheep.  All  that  ever  came 
before  me  are  thieves  and  robbers:  but  the  sheep  did  not 
hear  them.  I  am  the  door:  by  me  if  any  man  enter  in,  he 
shall  be  saved,  and  shall  go  in  and  out.  and  find  pasture.  The 
thief  Cometh  not,  but  for  to  steal,  and  to  kill,  and  to  destroy  : 
I  am  come  that  they  might  have  life,  and  that  they  might 
have  it  more  abundantly.  I  am  the  good  shepherd  :  the  good 
shepherd  giveth  his  life  for  the  sheep.  But  he  that  i'^  a  hire- 
ling, and   not  the   shepherd,  whose  own    the  sheep  are   not, 


202        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

of  the  Old  Testament  and  Jesus  of  the  New,  even 
upon  this  hasty  review,  very  surprising?  Transpose 
the  historic  relations  and  they  will  each  fill  the  place 

seeth  the  wolf  coming,  and  Icaveth  the  sheep,  and  lleeth ; 
and  the  wolf  catcheth  them,  and  scattereth  the  sheep.  The 
hireling  fleeth,  because  he  is  a  hireling,  and  careth  not  for 
the  sheep.  I  am  the  good  shepherd,  and  know  my  sheep, 
and  am  known  of  mine."    John  x.  7-14. 

"Behold,  I  send  an  angel  before  thee,  to  keep  thee  in  the 
way,  and  to  bring  thee  into  the  place  which  I  have  prepared. 
Beware  of  him,  and  obey  his  voice;  provoke  him  not,  for  he 
will  not  pardon  your  transgressions  :  for  my  name  is  in  him. 
But  if  thou  shalt  indeed  obey  his  voice,  and  do  all  that  I 
speak,  then  I  will  be  an  enemy  unto  thine  enemies,  and  an 
adversary  unto  thine  adversaries.  For  mine  angel  shall  go 
before  thee,  and  bring  thee  in  unto  the  Atnorites,  and  the 
Ilittites,  and  the  Perizzites.  and  the  Canaanites,  and  the 
Ilivites,  and  the  Jebusites;  and  I  will  cut  them  off.  Thou 
shalt  not  bow  down  to  their  gods,  nor  serve  them,  nor  do 
after  their  works  ;  but  thou  shalt  utterly  overthrow  them,  and 
quite  break  down  their  images.  And  ye  shall  serve  the  Lord 
your  God,  and  he  shall  bless  thy  bread,  and  thy  water;  and 
I  will  take  sickness  away  from  the  midst  of  thee."  Exodus 
xxiii.  20-25. 


"Then  they  went  out  to  see  what  was  done;  and  came  to 
Jesus,  and  found  the  man  out  of  whom  the  devils  were  de- 
parted, sitting  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  clothed,  ami  in  his  right 
hiind  :  and  tlicy  were  afraitl.  They  also  which  saw  it  told 
them  by  what  means  ho  tiiat  was  j^osscssed  of  the  dcxils  was 
healed.  Tlien  the  whole  multitude  of  the  counti\-  ot'  (lie 
Gadarenes  round  about  besought  him  to  depart  from  thciii  ; 
for  they  were  taken  with  great  fear."     Luke  viii.  35-37. 

"In  the  year  that  king  Uzziah  died,  I  saw  also  the  Lord 
sitting  upon  a  throne,  high  and  lifted  up,  and  his  train  filled 


THE    KING.  203 

of  the  other.  They  both  appeared  in  the  form  of 
humanity.  They  both  left  the  glory  of  heaven  to  in- 
struct, encourage,  and  save  mankind.  They  both  acted 
the  part  of  mediator.     They  both  received  divine  hon- 

the  temple.  Above  it  stood  the  seraphims:  each  one  had 
six  wings;  with  twain  he  covered  his  face,  and  with  twain 
he  covered  his  feet,  and  with  twain  he  did  fly.  And  one 
cried  unto  another,  and  said.  Holy,  holy,  holy,  is  the  Lord 
of  hosts  :  the  whole  earth  is  full  of  his  glory.  And  the  posts 
of  the  door  moved  at  the  voice  of  him  that  cried,  and  the 
house  was  filled  with  smoke.  Then  said  I,  Woe  is  me!  for  I 
am  undone;  because  I  am  a  man  of  unclean  lips,  and  I  dwell 
in  the  midst  of  a  people  of  unclean  lips  :  for  mine  eyes  have 
seen  the  King,  the  Lord  of  hosts."     Is.  vi.  1-5. 


"  And  it  came  to  pass,  about  eight  days  after  these  sayings, 
he  took  Peter,  and  John,  and  James,  and  went  up  into  a 
mountain  to  pray.  And  as  he  prayed,  the  fashion  of  his 
countenance  was  altered,  and  his  raiment  was  white  and 
glistering.  And  behold,  there  talked  with  him  two  men, 
which  were  Moses  and  Elias,  who  appeared  in  glory,  and 
spake  of  his  decease,  which  he  should  accomplish  at  Jerusa- 
lem. But  Peter  and  they  that  were  with  him  were  heavy 
with  sleep  :  and  when  they  were  awake,  they  saw  his  glory, 
and  the  two  men  that  stood  with  him.  And  it  came  to  pass, 
as  they  departed  from  him,  Peter  said  unto  Jesus,  Master,  it; 
is  good  for  us  to  be  here :  and  let  us  make  three  tabernacles; 
one  for  thee,  and  one  for  Moses,  and  one  for  Elias :  not 
knowing  what  he  said.  While  he  thus  spake,  there  came  a 
cloud,  and  overshadowed  them  :  and  they  feared  as  they 
entered  into  the  cloud.  And  there  came  a  voice  out  of  the 
cloud,  saying,  This  is  my  beloved  Son :  hear  him.  And 
when  the  voice  was  past,  Jesus  was  found  alone.  And  they 
kept  it  close,  and  told  no  man  in  those  days  any  of  those 
things  which  they  had  seen."     Luke  ix.  28-36. 

"  Then  went  up  Moses  and  Aaron,  Nadab,  and  Abihu,  and 
seventy  of  the  elders  of  Israel :  And  they  saw  the  God  of 


204        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

ors,  performed  divine  acts,  and  spoke  as  only  God  has 
a  right  to  speak.*  Indeed,  do  they  not  seem  to  be  the 
same  essentially?  I  Paul  we  find  distinctly  declaring 
that  they  are  identical. 

Israel :  and  there  was  under  his  feet  as  it  were  a  paved  work 
of  a  sapphire  stone,  and  as  it  were  the  body  of  heaven  in  his 
clearness.  And  upon  the  nobles  of  the  children  of  Israel  he 
laid  not  his  hand  :  also  they  saw  God,  and  did  eat  and  drink. 
And  the  Lord  said  unto  Moses,  Come  up  to  me  into  the 
mount,  and  be  there :  and  I  will  give  thee  tables  of  stone, 
and  a  law,  and  commandments  which  I  have  written;  that 
thou  mayest  teach  them.  And  Moses  rose  up,  and  his  min- 
ister Joshua;  and  Moses  went  up  into  the  mount  of  God. 
And  he  said  unto  the  elders,  Tarry  ye  here  for  us  until  we 
come  again  unto  you;  and,  behold,  Aaron  and  Ilur  are  with 
you  :  if  any  man  have  any  matters  to  do,  let  him  come  unto 
them.  And  Moses  went  up  into  the  mount,  and  a  cloud  cov- 
ered the  mount.  And  the  glory  of  the  Lord  abode  upon 
Mount  Sinai,  and  the  cloud  covered  it  six  days:  and  the 
seventh  day  he  called  unto  Moses  out  of  the  midst  of  the 
cloud.  And  the  sight  of  the  glory  of  the  Lord  was  like 
devouring  fire  on  the  top  of  the  mount  in  the  eyes  of  the 
children  of  Israel.  x\nd  Moses  went  into  the  midst  of  the 
cloud,  and  gat  him  up  into  the  mount:  and  Moses  was  in  the 
mount  forty  days  and  forty  nights.     Ex.  xxiv.  9-1S. 

*  Outlines  of  Christian  Theology. 

t  We  say  essentially,  because  there  were  differences  growing 
out  of  the  nature  of  the  case.  The  embodiment  in  the  one 
case  was  spiritual,  in  the  other  case  physical :  the  one  con- 
dition could  have  felt  nothing  of  the  tendency  given  to  the 
race  in  the  transgression  of  Atlam  ;  the  other  condition  con- 
nected with  a  body  from  a  mother  belonging  to  the  fallen  lace. 
though  probably  among  tlie  purest  and  most  perfect  of  all 
women,  would  seem  to  have  been  to  some  extent  alVccied 
thereby.  But  that  they  are  essentially  the  same  is  supported 
by  the  strongest  evidence. 


THE    KING.  205 

"  Moreover,  brethren,  I  would  not  that  ye  should  be 
ignorant  how  that  all  our  fathers  were  under  the  cloud, 
and  all  passed  through  the  sea  ;  and  did  all  drink  the 
same  spiritual  drink ;  for  they  drank  of  that  spiritual 
rock  that  followed  them  ;  and  that  rock  was  Christ."  * 

Figurative,  does  some  one  say?  Nay,  why  not  real? 
for  so  our  blessed  Lord  interpreted  it.  *''  Abraham 
rejoiced  to  see  my  day,  and  saw  it ; "  saw  it  two  thou- 
sand years  before  the  words  were  spoken  in  Judea  ; 
saw  it  when  he  ate  and  drank  with  the  God-man  under 
the  oaks  of  Mamre. 

But  beyond  all  cavil  are  the  explicit  announcements 
of  our  Lord  himself,  that  he  was  actually,  personally, 
and  consciously  this  Old  Testament  Jehovah,  whose 
home  was  in  iieaven  long  before  he  came  as  the  son 
of  Mary.  "  These  words  spake  Jesus,  and  lifted  up 
his  eyes  to  heaven,  and  said.  Father,  the  hour  is  come  ; 
glorify  tliy  Son,  that  thy  Son  also  may  glorify  thee  : 
As  thou  hast  given  him  power  over  all  flesh,  that  he 
should  give  eternal  life  to  as  many  as  thou  hast  given 
him.  And  this  is  life  eternal,  that  they  might  know 
thee  the  only  true  God,  and  Jesus  Christ  whom  thou 
hast  sent.  I  have  glorified  thee  on  the  earth,  I  have 
finished  the  work  which  thou  gavest  me  to  do.  And 
now,  O  Father,  glorify  thou  me  with  thine  own  self, 
with  the  glory  which  I  had  with  thee  before  the  world 
was."  t 

Does  not  this  language  show  that  Jesus  Christ,  as 
humanity,  had  an  existence  before  he  appeared  upon 
the  hills  of  Galilee  or  on  the  plains  of  Judea?     Could 

*  I  Cor.  X.  1-4.  t  John  xvii.  1-5. 


206  TITE    ARENA    AND    THE    THRONE. 

the  deity  of  Christ  have  oflcred  that  prayer?  Must  it 
not  have  been,  in  all  fair  interpretation,  none  other 
than  the  pre-existent  humanity  of  Christ,  which  said, 
'^Glorify  thou  me  with  thine  own  self,  with  the  glory 
which  I  had  with  thee  before  tlie  world  was"?  Upon 
that  supposition  all  difficulties  vanish;  on  any  other 
supposition  are  they  not  greatly  multiplied? 

Note  also,  as  further  evidence,  the  reply  of  Jesus  to 
Nicodemus.  *'  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  thee,  We 
speak  that  we  do  know,  and  testify  that  we  have  seen  ; 
and  ye  receive  not  our  witness.  If  I  have  told  you 
earthly  things,  and  ye  believe  not,  how^  shall  ye  believe 
if  I  tell  you  of  heavenly  things  ?  And  no  man  hath 
ascended  up  to  heaven,  but  he  that  came  down  from 
heaven,  even  the  Son  of  man  which  is  in  heaven."* 

Upon  this  passage  we  can  do  no  better  than  quote 
the  comment  of  Dean  Alford  :  ''  All  attempts  to  ex- 
plain away  the  plain  sense  of  this  verse  are  futile  and 
ridiculous.  The  Son  of  man,  the  Lord  Jesus,  the 
Word  made  flesh,  was  in^  came  down  from^  and  was 
in  Jieaven  while  here,  and  ascended  up  into  heaven 
when  he  left  this  earth." 

Similar  to  this,  also,  is  our  Saviour's  address  to  his 
wavering  disciples,  upon  a  certain  occasion  when 
many  were  leaving  him.  '' Man\ ,  therefore,  of  his 
<lisciples,  when  they  had  heard  this,  said,  T\V\s  is  a 
hard  savin";:  who  can  hear  it?  When  Jesus  knew  in 
himself  tiiat  his  ilisciplcs  nnu-murcd  at  it,  he  snid  unto 
them,  Doth  tiiis  oilend  you?  What  and  if  ye  sliall  see 
the   vSon    of  man    ascend   up  where   he  was  before?" 

*  y(<hn  iii.  11-13.  N<jte  in  this  conncclion  l^eut.  xw.  4, 
XXX.    12,   Rom.  X.  6-S. 


THE    KING.  207 

Notice  the  language:  "  What  and  if  ye  shall  sec 
the  Son  of  man  ascend  up  ivhe^-e  he  was  before."' 
Can  human  speech  be  more  exact?  But  we  must 
pause,  as  there  seems  to  be  no  end  to  these  wonderful 
confirmations  and  correspondences ;  in  a  word,  the 
parallels  run  along  respecting  this  chief  of  humanity 
in  the  Old  Testament  and  in  the  New,  the  parallelism 
growing  more  and  more  striking,  until  it  becomes,  in 
the  Lord  Jesus,  conscious  identity ;  and,  accordingly, 
Jesus  has  thus  expressed  himself.  His  words  upon 
this  point  are  certainly  more  authoritative  than  the  in- 
definite and  misty  generalizations  of  either  extreme  con- 
servatism or  extreme  radicalism. 

We  have,  therefore,  the  direct  statements  of  Christ, 
and  other  explicit  announcements  of  revelation,  to- 
gether with  Old  Testament  representations,  and  also 
the  harmony  and  consistency  of  things,  uniting  in  the 
assurance  that  the  Son,  in  whom  the  Godhead  dwelt, 
and  who  has  been  the  glory  of  God  for  the  past  eigh- 
teen hundred  years,  was  also  the  glory  of  God  in 
heaven  long  before  he  appeared  upon  the  hills  of  Gal- 
ilee and  plains  of  Judea.  He  is  now  the  glory  of  God 
more  than  ever  before  ;  *  so  much  so,  that  God,  with 

*  This  is  certainly  a  natural  inference.  For  Christ,  both 
in  his  pre-existent  and  in  his  historic  lite,  was  the  image  of 
God,  the  only  special  and  personal  image  God  has  given  the 
universe,  except  that  we  are  fashioned  after  the  same  like- 
ness. When,  in  that  anti-phjsical  period  of  the  universe, 
the  Creator  had  reached  this  his  appropriate  tabernacle,  the 
one  embodying  every  iinaginable  perfection  of  spiritual  cre- 
ation, the  true  King  of  the  universe,  the  vicegerent  ot  God  in 
both  the  spiritual  and  physical  worlds,  whose  identity  in 
both  worlds  is  consciously  ,  and  in  consequence  essentially,  the 


2o8        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

all  his  rights  and  titles,  has  transferred  himself  into 
this  one  ;  and  he  it  is  who  has  arisen  from  the  dead, 
and  ascended  to  heaven  ;  and  whatever  be  the  changes 
and  transformations  of  the  universe  hereafter,  he  it  is 
who  will  occupy  the  throne  forever. 

And  more  than  this,  through  his  resurrection  and 
exaltation  all  humanity,  who  will  consent,  and  who  will 
accept  him,  arc  also  lifted  into  these  same  exalted  rela- 

same,  it  was  pre-eminently  fitting  that  Deity  should  embody 
and  enthrone  itself  therein.  When  this  divine  representative 
came  to  the  earth,  taking  a  physical  body,  with  more  or  less 
of  the  pure  physical  human  nature  from  Mary  his  mother,  he 
lost  nothing  in  nature,  though  something  in  circumstance, 
but  gained  much  in  character.  Here  was  a  humiliation  in- 
volving advancement.  Here  was  a  humiliation  of  the  in- 
dwelling Deitj',  it  is  true,  but  the  spiritual  tabernacle  in  which 
the  Deity  had  pre-existed  was  exalted,  on  the  other  hand,  by 
that  connection  with  physical  humanity;  and  no  less,  but 
more  glorious  will  Christ  appear,  throughout  eternity,  on 
account  of  that  connection.  (Compare  Heb.  ii.  lo:  v.  8,  9.) 
In  harmony  with  this  are  the  usual  methods  of  divine  proce- 
dure. The  case  stands  thus:  Human  physical  nature,  being 
created  later  than  spiritual  human  nature,  is  greater  than  spir- 
itual human  nature;  though  spiritualized  human  nature  may, 
in  the  future  transformations,  be  higher  still;  so,  at  least,  we 
should  naturally  infer,  for  science  informs  us  that  the  latest  of 
a  given  tvpe  in  the  order  of  creation  is  the  highest. 

But  more  than  this  :  the  humanity  of  this  eartli-i)orn  King 
we  have  seen,  is  not  eternal,  but  the  spirit  that  dwelt  within 
hiin  is  eternal,  because  it  is  God.  The  humanity  ol'the  spir- 
itual and  heavenlv  born  King,  we  may  likewise  infer,  was  not 
eternal:  but  the  spirit  that  dwelt  within  him  was  eternal,  be- 
cause it  was  God.  The  right  of  this  one  of  Nazareth  to  oc- 
cupy the  throne  of  humanit}  has,  in  time  past,  been  disputed. 
Certain   iiilidels.    the  world  over  and   history   through,   have 


THE    KING.  209 

tions  with  himself.  "  For  we  are  made  partakers  of 
Christ."  *  "  If  children,  then  heirs,  heirs  of  God  and 
joint  heirs  with  Christ."  f  ''  It  doth  not  yet  appear 
what  we  shall  be,  but  we  know  that  when  he  shall 
appear  we  shall  be  like  him  ;  I   and  that  is  enough. 

We  are  now  prepared  to  support  the  well  nigh 
startling  revelation  of  biblical  theology  already  hinted  : 
that  ftillen  humanity,  possessing  the  spirit  of  this  ex- 
alted chief,  is  with  him  enthroned  for  the  judgment 
and  government  of  this  universe  ;  or,  in  other  words, 
fallen  humanity  in  Christ  is  eternal  and  universal 
King.  Our  final  appeal,  in  the  settlement  of  all  these 
grandest  of  questions,  must  of  necessity  be  the  holy 
and  inspired  Scriptures. 

There  is  but  a  single  original  passage  which  seems 
to  oppose  the  viev^  that  humanity  is  the  highest  order 
of  created  intelligence,  and  therefore,  by  nature  and 
by  right,  qualified  to  be  inaugurated  as  king.  In  the 
Psalms  we  read,  '^  When  I  consider  thy  heavens,  the 
work  of  thy  fingers,  the  moon  and  the  stars,  which 
thou  hast  ordained,  what  is  man,  that  thou  art  mind- 
ful of  him.?  and  the  son  of  man,  that  thou  visitest 
him.?  For  thou  hast  made  him  a  little  lower  than 
the  angels,  and    hast   crowned    him    with    glory  and 

contested  his  right  to  wield  the  sceptre;  but  he  holds  it  still. 
The  noblest  and  the  best  men  of  all  times  have  been  his  sup- 
porters :  the  throne  of  Jesus  Christ  is  now  firmly  established 
in  this  world  so  long  as  it  shall  stand.  So  Satan  disputed 
his  right  to  the  throne  long  ages  since;  but  dismal  is  the 
doom  of  all,  first  and  last,  who  contend  with  the  Son. 
*  Heb.  iii    14.  t  Rom.  viii.  17. 

X  I  John  iii.  2. 


2IO        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

honor.  Thou  madcst  him  to  have  dominion  over  the 
works  of  thy  hands;  thou  hast  put  all  things  under 
his  feet:  all  sheep  and  oxen,  yea,  and  the  beasts  of 
the  field,  the  fowl  of  the  air,  and  the  fish  of  the  sea, 
and  whatsoever  passeth  through  the  paths  of  the  seas.* 
This  passage  calls  attention  to  two  things:  the 
starry  heavens  above  man,  and  the  majesty  of  human- 
ity within  man.  But  the  force  of  the  original  is  not 
quite  disclosed  in  the  common  translation. 

The  word  here  translated  ^'  angels,"  a  little  lower 
than  ''angels,"  is  '•'•  elohelm^''  which  means  God; 
the  great  Hebrew  scholar  Gesenius  accordingly  trans- 
lates the  passage  thus:  "For  thou  hast  caused  him  to 
luck  but  little  of  (a)  God."  A  literal  translation  like- 
wise is  the  following:  "What  is  man!  and  thou  art 
mindful  of  him;  and  die  child  of  man!  thou  visitest 
him,  and  hast  created  him  but  a  shaving  from  Deity." 
So  Ihat  this  pas«»nge,  upon  the  highest  authority,  turns 
out  in  support  of  the  merited  exaltation  of  humanity. 

But  aj^art  from  this,  the  passages  which  directly 
declare  that  man,  in  his  redeemed  state,  stands  high 
above  all  created  objects  and  beings  in  the  universe, 
are  both  numerous  and  deiinite. 

First,  taking  Jesus  of  Nazareth  as  the  representa- 
tive, we  read,  "God,  who  at  sundry  times  and  in 
di\ers  manners  spake  in  time  past  unto  the  fathers  by 
tlie  prophets,  hath. in  these  last  days  spoken  unto  us  by 
his  Son,  whom  he  hath  appointed  heir  of  all  things, 
bv  whom  also  he  made  the  worlds  ;  who  being  the 
brightness  of  his  glory,  and   ihe  express  image  of  his 

*  Ps."  viii.  3-8.     Co  111  p.  II  eb.  ii.  6-9. 


THE    KING.  211 

person,  and  upholding  all  things  by  the  word  of  his 
power,  when  he  had  b}^  himself  purged  our  sins,  sat 
down  on  th.e  right  hand  of  the  Majesty  on  high  ;  being 
made  so  much  better  than  the  angels,  as  he  hath  by 
inheritance  obtained  a  more  excellent  name  than 
they."  * 

Next,  of  those  who  have  partaken  of  his  nature,  we 
read,  "  Know  ye  not  that  your  bodies  are  the  mem- 
bers of  Christ?"!  "What!  know  ye  not  that  your 
body  is  the  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost  which  is  in 
you  ?  "  I  "  He  that  believeth  on  me,  the  works  that  I 
do  shall  he  do  also  ;  and  greater  works  than  tliese 
shall  he  do."  §  "  And  I  appoint  unto  you  a  kingdom, 
as  my  Father  hath  appointed  unto  me,  tliat  }  e  may  eat 
and  drink  at  my  table,  in  my  kingdom,  and  sit  on 
thrones  judging  the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel."  |[ 

"  And  I  saw  thrones,"  says  the  Revelator,  "  and 
the  saints  of  God  sat  upon  them,  and  judgment  v/as 
given  unto  them."^  "  Do  ye  not  know  that  the  saints 
shall  judge  the  world.'*  and  if  the  world  shall  be 
judged  by  you,  are  ye  unworthy  to  judge  the  smallest 
matters?"**      "Know   ye    not   that   ye    shall  judge 

angels  ?"tt 

It  is  clear,  therefore,  according  to  biblical  theology, 
that  God  is  to  share  his  chief  glories,  not  with  angels 
or  archangels,  but  with  men  who  prove  themselves 
worth}'.  In  humanity  are  found  the  sole  heirs  with 
Christ  of  this  universe.     It  is  humanity,  and  nothing 


*  Heb.  i.  1-4.  t  I  Cor.  vi.  15.  %  i  Cor.  vi.  19. 

§  John  xiv.  12.  II  Matt.  xix.  28.  1  Rev.  xx.  4. 

**  I  Cor.  vi.  2.  ft  I  Cor.  vi.  3. 


212         THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

else,  that  has  the  grandest  coat  of  arms  worn  in  God's 
great  empire — a  coat  of  arms  that  need  not  be  turned 
ftice  to  the  wall,  only  as  we,  by  a  sinful  life,  disgrace 
our  high  ancestry.  Man  is  kith  and  kin  of  the  King 
Supreme.  His  is  not  patented,  but  is  blood  nobility. 
How  noble-like  and  prince-like  he  ought  to  deport 
himself!  The  blood  that  is  in  the  veins  of  the  Lord 
Most  High  is  in  our  veins  ;  it  is  human  blood;  we 
are  of  one  and  the  same  family.  No  wonder  that 
"  he  that  hath  the  seven  spirits  of  God,  and  the  seven 
stars,"  after  scanning  the  grandeurs  and  sublimities 
of  things  to  us  invisible,  implored  the  church  in  Phil- 
adelphia to  remain  steadfast :  '*  hold  that  fast  which 
thou  hast,  that  no  niait  take  thy  crown^  *  No  wonder 
that,  when  God  announces  that  a  man  is  born,  the 
angels  pause  in  adoration  and  amazement.  And  no 
wonder  that,  when  God  announces  that  a  man  is  born 
again^  the  angels  break  their  silence,  and  fill  heaven 
with  glad  and  triumplial  shouts. f  Yes,  everything, 
even  angels,  tell  us  that  it  is  humanity  which  stands 
next  to  God,  with  nothing  between  ;  it  well  nigh 
stands  for  God.  "  Ye  are  the  light  of  the  world,"  It 
is  man  for  whom  there  is  such  intense  anxiety  in 
heaven.  For  man  all  the  angels  of  God  are  minister- 
ing spirits,  sent  forth  to  minister  to  the  heirs  of  salva- 
tion. And  do  not  oiu"  own  soul  convictions,  whicli, 
in  our  better  moments,  take  jiossession  of  us,  liarmo- 
nize  with  these  daring  representations?  Does  not 
cver}^  man  feel  that  lliere  is  nothing  which  can  inter- 
vene Ijctwecn  him  and  the  Infinite?     Are  we  not  eacli 

*  Rev.  iii.  1,  7,  II.  f  Luke  xv.  10. 


THE    KING.  213 

"  persuaded,  that  neither  death,  nor  life,  nor  angels, 
nor  principalities,  nor  powers,  nor  things  present,  nor 
things  to  come,  nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor  any  other 
creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of 
God  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord"?*  If  de- 
feated, we  arc  our  own  defeaters. 

Who  is  this  great  giant  spirit  of  evil  that  sometimes 
flashes  through  the  world,  going  about  seeking  whom 
he  may  devour,  which  we  call  the  devil?  But  the 
weakest  child  of  humanity  can  resist  and  conquer  him, 
and  put  him  into  terrible  confusion  and  flight. 

Or  does  liberalism  insinuate  that  biblical  theology 
places  lov/  estimates  upon  the  power  and  majesty  of 
humanity.?  We  beg  pardon,  if  there  is  anything  to 
beg  pardon  for,  but  so-called  free  religion  has  not  yet 
begun  to  dream  of  the  exaltation  of  humanity  as  re- 
vealed in  the  Scriptures,  and  never  will  be  able  to 
realize  it,  until  the  light  of  Christianity  shall  be  per- 
mitted to  aid  in  its  investigations. 

True  it  is,  almost  while  we  are  in  the  act  of  think- 
ing of  such  exaltation  and  pre-eminence  for  humanity, 
that  confusion  and  seeming  discrepancy  meet  us. 
The  image  is  blurred.  Total  depravity  flaunts  itself 
before  us.  Some  poor  sot,  some  wretch  of  earth, 
violent  and  fiendish,  confronts  us,  and  we  ask.  Is  this 
—  this  thing  —  the  son  of  a  king,  the  heir  apparent 
of  a  throne? 

But  hold  !  that  is  not  humanity  ;  that  is  a  wreck 
of  humanity.  We  always  say  of  such,  His  humanit}'' 
is  gone.     And  yet,  even  in  that  wreck  is  royal  blood; 

*  Rom.  viii.  38,  39. 


214        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

he  is  a  prince,  notwithstanding  his  fall ;  to  him  can 
the  line  of  undisputed  royalty  be  traced  ;  so  grand  is 
he,  even  in  his  degradation,  that  his  brother  king  left 
heaven  to  die  for  his  restoration  ;  and  God  is  willing 
to  do  anything  to  save  him. 

The  ignorance  of  humanity  likewise  aggravates  and 
disappoints  us.  When  we  see  parents  murdering 
their  children  to  propitiate  the  most  ill-shapen  images  ; 
when  we  see  men  worshipping,  not  God,  but  an  ox, 
nay,  the  image  of  an  ox  ;  trembling,  not  before  the 
great  potentates  of  the  world,  but  before  a  dog  or  a 
cat,  and  adoring  deified  garlic  and  onions,  we  almost 
loathe  the  race  to  which  we  belong.  But  there  is 
more  in  all  this  than  appears  upon  the  surface.  Those 
devotees  look  beyond  the  image,  the  ox,  and  the  gar- 
lic ;  they  are  inspired  and  terrified  by  invisible  agen- 
cies. It  is  not  what  those  men  have  not  attained  to, 
but  what  they  are  capable  of  attaining,  that  should 
impress  us,  and  fill  us  too,  with  awe  and  reverence. 

The  crimes  of  humanity  in  civilized  lands  are  like- 
wise appalling.  How  ungodlike  they  are  !  Men  are 
fired  with  ambition,  and  allow  nothing  to  stand  in 
their  way  ;  they  regard  not  man,  and  fear  not  God. 
But  tliis  aspiring  soul  which  is  ''  insolvent,  and  cannot 
satisfy  its  own  wants;"*  which  sees  no  station  in  life 
too  high  for  its  occupancy ;  which  feels  an  unholy 
pang  whenever  another  holds  a  position  higher  than 
its  own  ;  which  "  storms  heaven  itself  in  its  folly  ;  "  f 
which  cannot  see  a  sovereign  without  longing  to  be 
itself  a  sovereign,  and  sit  umpire  of  the  universe, — 
bespeaks  for  itseh''  no  grovclhng,  but  lofty  relationships. 

♦  Emerson.  t  Horace. 


THE    KING.  315 

"Ambition,"  says  Montaigne,  "  is  not  a  vice  of  little 
people."  What  mean  these  sudden  flashes  of  ambi- 
tious graspings  for  positions  and  authority,  unless  they 
disclose  the  outlines  of  a  soul  towering  enough,  if 
sanctified,  to  be  a  second  God  in  the  universe.? 

Men  likewise,  while  harboring  revenge,  commit 
wild  and  unsanctified  deeds.  Transgression,  based 
upon  revenge,  is  characteristic ;  there  is  something 
contradictory  in  it.  Bruyere  is  right  in  saying,  "  It  is 
thorough  madness  that  we  hate  an  enemy,  and  think 
of  revenging  ourselves  ;  and  it  is  thorough  indolence 
that  we  are  appeased,  and  do  not  revenge  ourselves." 
Revenge  is  as  insatiable  as  the  grave.  "  Had  all  his 
hairs  been  lives,  my  great  revenge  had  stomach  for 
them  all."*  It  is  likewise  deliberate  when  deepest. 
There  is  nothing  heated,  and  nothing  hasty.  The 
violence  of  revenge  is  a  cold  and  deliberative  violence. 
It  is  madness,  but  a  madness  full  of  method.  Such  a 
man's  sleep  is  but  the  lull  between  storms.  For 
twenty  years  will  a  revengeful  man  pursue  the  object 
of  his  hate  ;  never  daunted,  he  will  follow  on,  and  on, 
until  he  faces  his  victim.  When  that  hour  comes,  he 
will  be  in  transports  of  malice  ;  he  will  impersonate 
revenge  ;  he  wall  hesitate  for  a  moment,  as  if  it  were 
too  great  a  luxury  to  strike  just  yet;  he  will  torture 
his  victim,  and  sip  his  sv/eet  cup.  He  smiles  as  he 
smites.  So  long  as  the  agonies  of  death  can  be 
traced  in  the  victim,  he  is  happy. 

But  when  they  have  ceased,  and  his  fiendish  life- 
work  is  done,  then  all  things  change.     Ilirough   life 

*  Shakespeare. 


2l6        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

the  murderer  had  been  developing  unconsciously  a 
sense  of  justice,  a  keen  sense  of  justice,  destitute  of 
mercy.  "  Revenge,"  says  Bacon,  "  is  a  kind  of  wild 
justice."  And  now^  this  terrible  justice,  both  wild  and 
sensitive,  reacts  ;  conscience  becoines  a  pursuer,  and 
the  fires  of  hell  burn  so  deep  in  that  man's  soul,  that 
the  appalling  tragedy  of  his  life  ends  only  when  his 
own  life  ends  by  the  same  hand  that  slew  his  foe. 

We  see  here,  it  is  true,  fiendish  malignity  ;  but  it  is, 
nevertheless,  the  perversion  of  an  ennobling  sentiment, 
inherent  in  the  soul  of  man.  Sin,  of  all  kinds,  is,  in 
fact,  only  the  wreck  of  sublime  virtues  ;  but  it  is  an 
appalling  wreck  ;  the  revengeful  character,  if  not  per- 
verted, and  if  sanctified,  would  represent  fust  resent- 
ment, to  what  is  wrong,  and  a  holy  indignation  against 
unrighteousness.  Like  the  sword  of  justice,  keen,  but 
innocent  and  righteous,  it  would  glisten  only  when  es- 
pousing God's  honor.  It  would  be  capable  of  announ- 
cing Jehovah's  judgments,  and  could  execute,  with  its 
own  right  arm,  the  sublimest  behests  of  the  Infinite  One. 

No  less  awful  is  rebellion  in  the  heart  of  man-^ 
that  power  which  can  say  "  No  "  to  God's  "  Yes  ;  " 
\vhich  can  curse  God,  though  dying  in  the  act.  See  ! 
there  is  a  man  who  has  but  five  minutes  to  live.  God 
says,  "  Give  me  thy  heart."      He  replies,  "  I  will  not." 

Whiit!  what  is  tliis,  which,  amid  such  appalling 
scenes,  can  resist  angels,  principalities,  powers,  things 
present,  and  things  to  come,  and  God  liimsclf?  Wliat 
is  this  wliicii  can  defy  chains,  and  racks,  and  gibbets, 
and  lires,  and  all  the  powers  of  universal  nature? 
\\  hat  art  thou,  immortal  and  invisible  spirit,  unless 
thou  art  —  a  God  in  ruins  ! 


THE    KING.  217 

Providence,  too,  is,  or  appears  to  be,  singular  in  its 
assignments,  if  men  are  God's  sons.  She  often  jouts 
them  to  employments  that  seem,  at  least,  ill  befitting 
to  princes.  They  rarely  are  found  in  regal  palaces, 
but  are  often  seen  tilling  the  soil,  with  brow  not 
crowned  with  diamonds,  but  beaded  with  sweat  and 
dust.  They  are  seen  plying  the  needle,  with  weary 
fingers  and  broken  hearts  ;  are  found  toiling  down  in 
coal-pits,  and,  with  grimy  face  and  besmeared  hands, 
are  for  years  assigned  the  task  of  firing  and  driving 
the  locomotive  along  dusty  railways,  in  actual  peril, 
and  near  possible  death  every  day  and  every  hour. 

Is  not  all  this  evidence  of  humiliation,  rather  than 
exaltation.'*  True;  so  it  seems,  at  least;  but  remem- 
ber the  chief  Prince  himself  touched  the  earth  to  rise 
again.  Kings  may  be  born  in  stables  without  preju-* 
dicing:  in  the  least  their  titles.*     In  that  act  of  tillino; 

*  "Oftentimes,  at  Oxford,"  says  De  Qiiincey,  "I  saw  Le- 
vana  in  my  dreams.  I  knew  her  by  her  Roman  symbols. 
"Who  is  Levana?  Reader,  that  do  not  pretend  to  have  leisure 
for  very  much  scholarship,  you  will  not  be  angry  with  me  for 
telling  you  Levana  was  the  Roman  goddess  that  performed 
for  the  new-born  infant  the  earliest  office  of  ennobling  kind- 
ness,—  typical,  by  its  mode,  of  that  grandeur  which  belongs 
to  man  everywhere,  and  of  that  benignity  in  powers  invisible, 
which,  even  in  pagan  worlds,  sometimes  descends  to  su>tain 
it.  At  the  very  moment  of  birth,  just  as  the  infant  tasted 
for  the  first  time  the  atmosphere  of  our  troubled  planet,  it. 
was  laid  on  the  ground.  That  might  bear  dillerent  in.terp)ie-- 
tations.  But  immediately,  lest  so  grand  a  creature  should 
grovel  there  for  more  than  one  instaut,  either  the  pateinal 
hand,  as  proxy  for  the  goddess  Levana,  or  some  near  kins- 
man, as  proxy  for  the  father,  raised  it  upright,  bade  it  look 
erect,  as  the  king  of  all  this  world,  and  presented  its  fore- 


2l8        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

the  soil  may  be  involved  the  preliminaries  of  future- 
inauguration,  if  the  work  is  faithfully  done  ;  the  coal- 
pit worker  may  be  unconsciously  furnishing  supplies 
to  light  the  Lord's  house,  upon  the  occasion  of  receiv- 
ing the  throne  and  sce[)tre.  No  matter  about  the  kind 
of  work  ;  how  the  work  is  done  decides  its  merit. 

The  poor  woman  who  stitches  her  life  into  her 
work  at  midnight  may  be  finishing  a  robe  for  her- 
self so  royal  that  no  other  fingers  arc  fit  to  touch  it, 
lest  it  be  soiled. 

Surely  our  employments  do  not  change  our  blood 
relations,  and,  through  their  tasks  and  daily  work, 
whatever  its  character,  and  through  all  sorts  of  losses 
and  temporary  defeats,  these  royal  sons  of  God  will 
yet  carve  their  way  to  thrones  and  empires.  And 
often,  very  often,  docs  not  this  princely  character  of 
man  crop  out,  almost  in  spite  of  itself,  even  in  the 
humblest  avocations? 

John  Manyard,  a  pilot  on  one  of  the  fated  steamers 
of  Lake  Erie,  toiling  summer  and  winter,  and  exposed 
to  all  weathers,  scarcely  seemed  engaged  in  princely 
employment.  But  on  board  that  steamer  one  day  was 
heard  the  cry  of  fire  ;  the  flames  broke  out  amidships  ; 
the  captain  gave  command  to  head  for  the  shore  ;  the 
passengers  rushed  to  the  prow  of  the  boat ;  Jolin  Man- 
yard  was  at  the  wheel  ;  the  llames  and  smoke  became 

head  to  the  stars,  saving,  perhaps,  in  his  henrt,  'Behold 
what  is  greater  than  yourselves! '  This  svmbolic  act  repre- 
sented the  function  of  Lcvana.  And  that  mysterious  lad}', 
who  never  revealed  her  face  (exccj)!  to  nic  in  dreams),  but 
always  acted  by  delegation,  had  her  name  from  the  Latin 
verb  (as  >-till  it  is  the  Italian  verb).  Icviuc,  to  raise  aloft." 


THE    KING.  219 

suffocating,  driving  him  from  the  wheel-house  farther 
astern  ;  there  he  adjusted  the  spare  tiller,  keeping  the 
boat  meantime  headed  for  the  shore  ;  the  lives  of  all 
on  board  were  in  the  hands  of  that  rough,  copper- 
faced  man  at  the  helm.  Ten  minutes  !  If  the  boat 
could  be  kept  headed  for  the  shore,  they  were  all  that 
was  needed  to  save  every  imperilled  life. 

"John  Manyard  !  "  shouted  the  captain. 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Can  you  keep  her  headed  as  she  is  for  ten  minutes?" 

"  I'll  try,  sir." 

But  every  minute  the  flames  and  smoke  increased, 
every  minute  saw  the  flames  creeping  onward  towards 
this  faithful  pilot. 

"John  Manyard  !  "  again  shouted  the  captain.  Ev- 
ery ear  was  strained,  and  caught  the  stifled  — 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir." 

"  Can  you  keep  her  headed  as  she  is  for  five  min- 
utes ?  " 

And  the  quick  ear  of  the  captain  just  caught  the 
response  through  the  roaring  flames,  — 

"  I'll  try,  sir." 

That  was  enough.  The  boat  sped  on.  She  veered 
not  one  inch  from  her  course.  A  few  fathoms  more 
—  the  distance  is  passed  ;  the  keel  grates  ;  the  shore  is 
reached  ;  not  one  life  is  lost,  —  save  that  of  the  pilot, 
who  was  found  burned  to  a  crisp,  but  holding  fast  to 
the  tiller. 

Does  any  aristocrat  dare  call  that  man  a  day 
/adorer P — that  man,  who  could  trust  his  wife  and 
children  to  God,  and  yield  his  own  life,  and  stand  at 
his  230st  until  his  eyes  were  burned  from  their  sockets, 


220        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

until  the  tiller  burned  under  his  hands,  and  whose  last 
act,  before  his  last  breath,  was  to  see  if  the  boat  was 
headed  hard  to  the  shore,  and  who  would  not  allow 
himself  the  luxury  of  a  death  struggle,  lest  the  course 
be  changed.  "Noble,"  do  you  say?  Ah!  that  is  a 
tame  word. 

And  yet,  that  is  but  an  illustration  of  what  is 
hourly  taking  place  on  this  earth  ;  the  divine  deeds 
of  humanity,  unseen  by  any  eye  save  God's,  crowd 
a  pageless  catalogue  ;  God  notes  them,  though,  every 
one.  We  think  we  hear  God  saying  to  that  j^ilot, 
"  King  yohn.''  Perhaps  from  fixed  habit,  and  in 
the  confusion  of  his  first  moments  in  the  other  world, 
John  may  have  replied,  "  Ay,  ay,  sir  !  "  God  does  not 
mind  the  reply,  but  announces,  loud  enough  for  all  to 
hear,  "  Thou  hast  been  faithful  over  a  few  things,  I 
will  make  thee  ruler  over  many."  The  real  helm 
which  that  pilot  held  in  his  hands  during  that  peril- 
ous hour,  was  not  the  helm  of  that  boat ;  the  real 
helm  was  an  invisible  one  —  the  helm  of  royal  state, 
of  divine  and  eternal  empire.  Empero7'l  was  that 
rough-faced  but  divine-hearted  man  of  the  sea. 

Sec,  also,  that  grimy  but  smiling  engineer,  whose 
quick  eye  has  discovered  a  child,  unconscious  of  dan- 
ger, approaching  the  track  :  the  speed  of  tlic  locomo- 
tive is  at  its  utmost;  the  distances  are  well  measured  ; 
there  is  but  one  possibility.  The  noble  man  reverses 
his  locomotive,  then  quickly  glides  along  its  side  to  a 
position  of  great  danger,  reaches  out  a  strong  arm, 
and  catches  the  child  when  there  are  but  twelve  inches 
between  it  and  death  ;  and  when  the  train  comes  to  a 
stand-still,   lie   kisses  the   cJtcck  of  the   child,  thinking 


THE    KING.  221 

the  rosy  lips  too  sweet  and  pure  for  his  rough  touch 
(they  are  not),  sets  it  on  its  feet  again,  face  home- 
ward, and  whistles  "  off  brakes." 

Three  persons,  a  mother  and  her  child,  and  a  rough 
sailor  heavily  clad  in  pilot  suit,  were  found  clinging 
to  a  floating  settee  after  shipwreck.  It  would  support 
two,  until  the  life-boat  came  to  the  rescue,  but  not 
three.  The  sailor  looked,  struggled  with  the  conflict- 
ing thoughts  of  life  and  death  for  a  moment,  then 
pushed  off',  threw  up  his  hands,  and  sank  into  the  dark 
sea  ;  the  mother  and  child  were  saved. 

Is  there  not  the  presence  of  God  in  such  sacrifice, 
tenderness,  and  nobility.'*  The  Infinite  One  and  such 
conduct  are  one  and  inseparable,  and  must  stand  or  fall 
together.  Such  men  are  God's  princes,  living  under 
mask.  There  is  more  of  Christ  in  the  common  walks 
of  life  than  we  give  credit  for;  indeed,  there  is  where 
Christ  is  most  apt  to  make  his  stay.  Could  you  look 
through  the  soot  upon  many  a  man's  face,  you  would 
behold  —  a  king. 

That  pale-faced  girl,  —  consumptive  they  called  her, 
—  who  had  everything  to  live  for,  but  who,  recalling  a 
dreary  sickness,  said,  "  I  would  have  nothing  other- 
wise, for  so  it  has  pleased  my  Father,"  was  one  of 
God's  queens ;  and  they  are  everywhere,  and  often 
where  we   little   expect  to  find   them. 

Are  we  not  sometimes  lifted  above  our  former  theo- 
logical wonder  that  Christ  should  come  to  this  earth  and 
die  for  man  ?  Could  the  universe  have  well  overlooked 
it  in  God  had  he  not  sent  his  Son  to  redeem  such  fallen 
majesty  as  is  wrapped  up  in  the  humblest  human  intel- 
ligence.^    Is  there  not  good  reason  that  God  so  loved 


222        THE  ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

the  world  as  to  give  all^  and  submit  to  any  sacrifice  in 
its  behalf?  He  seemed  to  say,  Redemption  for  man, 
Redemption  at  any  cost. 

We  are  walking  daily  in  the  midst  of  a  royal  family, 
and  should  have  a  smile  of  good  cheer,  and  a  bow  of 
respect,  for  the  woman  who  sweeps  our  house,  or  the 
man  who  heaves  our  coal,  or  paves  our  streets,  for 
they  may  be  kings  and  queens  incog. ^  and  under  masks  ; 
they  may  be  not  one  step  farther  removed  from  the 
throne  than  are  the  most  honored  of  us. 

Three  men  appeared  unto  Abraham,  but  one  was 
the  Lord  himself.  Every  man  is  greater  than  the 
house  he  lives  in,  and  daily  outgrows  the  garments 
and  attainments  of  yesterday.  "  All  things  seem  to  be 
going  about  man's  business,  and  not  their  own,"  *  and 
no  wonder.  There  is  reason  enough  why  the  God-man 
walked  this  planet  rather  than  any  other.  Emerson 
talks  of  most  men  as  if  they  were  "  mice,"  and  of  most 
men  and  women  as  if  only  "  one  couple  more  ;  "  he 
cannot  be  speaking  of  capabilities,  else  he  knows  not 
of  what  he  speaks.  Give  a  man  time  enough,  and  dis- 
pose him  to  application,  and  there  is  nothing  within 
the  range  of  possibility  but  he  can  achieve.  Darwin 
is  right  in  his  estimate  :  "  Man  is  the  wonder  and 
the  glory  of  the  universe^ 

\Vhcn  Chevalier  Bunsen  said  to  his  wife,  "In  tiiy 
face  have  I  beheld  the  Eternal,"  he  s^Doke  as  Christ 
seems  to  speak  of  men  and  women.  VVe  look  with 
solemn  reverence  upon  the  mummy,  even,  and  justly. 
"  It  has  been  a  temple  of  God  :  ti^e  brain  has  been 
scooped  out,  but  tiie  hollow  once  echoed  with  invita- 

*  Bacon. 


THE    KING.  223 

tion  to  be  just  and  pure."  How  wise  the  Scriptures 
are  !  Less  and  less  do  sceptics  cavil  their  old  cavils. 
And  yet  not  everything  has  been  revealed.  "  It  doth 
not  yet  appear,"  "  It  hath  not  entered  into  the  heart  of 
man  ;"  "  thrones,"  "  sceptres,"  "  crowns,"  are  —  hints 
only.  It  is  as  if  God  had  said,  Wait,  my  children  ;  I 
cannot  tell  you  all  at  present ;  it  is  not  best  that  you 
should  know ;  but  remain  true^  be  not  engaged  with 
trifles,  swerve  not,  and  it  shall  be  better  than  your 
fondest  dreams. 

With  what  startling  words  does  revelation  address 
men,  ever  urging  them  on  to  an  almost  restless  devo- 
tion, expostulating  with  and  imploring  them.*  It  is  as 

*  Illustrative  are  the  following:  "  For  every  house  isbuild- 
ed  by  some  man,  but  he  that  built  all  things  is  God.  And 
Moses  verily  was  faithful  in  all  his  house,  as  a  servant,  for  a 
testimony  of  those  things  which  were  to  be  spoken  after: 
But  Christ  as  a  son  over  his  own  house :  whose  house  are  we 
if  we  hold  fast  the  confidence  and  the  rejoicing  of  the  hope 
firm  unto  the  end.  Wherefore,  as  the  Holy  Ghost  saith.  To- 
day if  ye  will  hear  his  voice,  harden  not  your  hearts,  as  in 
the  provocation,  in  the  day  of  temptation  in  the  wilderness : 
when  3'our  fathers  tempted  me,  proved  me,  and  saw  mj^  works 
forty  years.  Wherefore  I  was  grieved  with  that  generation, 
and  said.  They  do  always  err  in  their  heart;  and  they  have 
not  known  my  ways.  So  I  sware  in  my  wrath.  They  shall 
not  enter  into  my  rest.  Take  heed,  brethren,  lest  there  be  in 
any  of  you  an  evil  heart  of  unbelief,  in  departing  from  the 
living  God.  But  exhort  one  another  dailj^,  while  it  is  called 
To-day;  lest  any  of  you  be  hardened  through  the  deceitful- 
ness  of  sin.  For  we  are  made  partakers  of  Christ,  if  we  hold 
the  beginning  of  our  confidence  steadfast  unto  the  end  :  While 
it  is  said,  To-day  if  ye  will  hear  his  voice,  harden  not  your 
hearts  as  in  the  provocation.  For  some,  when  they  had 
heard,  did  provoke ;  howbeit,  not  all  that  came  out  of  Egypt 


224         ^'^'^    ARENA  AND  THE  THRONE. 

if  the  Creator  had  hung  placards  before  us  with  the 
announcement,  Wanted  :  A  race  of  kings  !     Volunteer, 

bj  iNIoses.  But  with  whom  was  he  grieved  forty  years?  was 
it  not  with  them  that  had  sinned,  whose  carcasses  fell  in  tlie 
wilderness?  And  to  whom  sware  he  that  they  should  not 
enter  into  his  rest,  but  to  them  that  believed  not?  So  we  see 
that  they  could  not  enter  in  because  of  unbelief"  (Heb.  iii. 
4-19.) 

"But  tliou,  O  man  of  God,  flee  these  things:  and  follow 
after  righteousness,  godliness,  faith,  love,  patience,  meek- 
ness. Fight  the  good  fight  of  faith,  lay  hold  on  eternal  life, 
whereunto  thou  art  also  called,  and  hast  professed  a  good 
profession  before  many  witnesses.  I  give  thee  charge  in  the 
sight  of  God,  who  quickeneth  all  things,  and  before  Christ 
Jesus,  who  before  Pontius  Pilate  witnessed  a  good  confession, 
that  thou  keep  this  commandment  without  spot,  unrebukable, 
until  the  appearing  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ:  which  in  his 
times  he  shall  show,  whols  the  blessed  and  only  Potentate,  the 
King  of  kings,  and  Lord  of  lords  ;  who  only  hath  immortality, 
dwelling  in  the  light  which  no  man  can  approach  unto,  whom 
no  man  hath  seen  nor  can  see;  to  whom  be  honor  and  power 
everlasting.  Amen.  Charge  them  that  are  rich  in  this  world, 
that  they  be  not  high-minded,  nor  trust  in  uncertain  riches, 
but  in  the  living  God,  who  giveth  us  richly  all  things  to  enjoy ; 
that  they  do  good,  that  they  be  rich  in  good  works,  ready  to 
distribute,  willing  to  communicate;  laying  up  in  store  for 
themselves  a  good  foundation  against  the  time  to  come,  that 
they  may  lay  hold  on  eternal  life."     (i  Tim.  vi.  11-19.) 

"Finally,  my  brethren,  be  strong  in  the  Lord,  and  in  the 
power  of  his  might.  Put  on  the  whole  armor  of  God,  that  ye 
may  be  able  to  stand  against  the  wiles  of  the  devil.  For  we 
wrestle  not  against  flesh  and  blood,  but  against  principali- 
ties, against  powers,  against  the  rulers  of  the  darkness  of  this 
world,  against  spiritual  wickedness  in  high  places.  Where- 
fore take  unto  you  the  whole  armor  of  God,  that  ye  may  be 
able  to  withstand  in  the  evil  day,  and  having  done  all,  to 
stand."     (Eph.  vi.  10-13.) 


THE    KING.  225 

he  seems  to  say,  and  the  forces  you  need  are  yours.  I 
have  worlds  enough  for  you  to  rule,  when  they  are  fitted 
up;  can  you  count  the  stars .f*  Archangels  hold  no 
positions  to  be  envied  by  you.  They  are  but  God's 
ministers  ;  the  thrones  are  yours. 

Immortals  !  you  who  stand  amid  dilapidated  ruins, 
whose  walls  are  riddled  with  the  enemies'  artillery, 
look  up  ;  above  you  is  waving  the  banner  of  victory, 
bearing  the  sign  of  the  cross.  Issues  which,  without 
your  consent,  heaven  itself  cannot  control,  hang  this 
moment  pending  your  decision. 


APPENDIX 


APPENDIX. 


A.  (Page  14.) 

Dr.  Chalmers,  in  some  of  the  most  wonderful  discourses 
ever  preached,  botli  as  regards  majesty  of  thought  and  ele- 
gance of  diction,  has  presented  the  affirmative  of  this  ques- 
tion in  the  strongest  possible  light.  They  covered  the 
preacher  with  a  blaze  of  popularity,  leading  Mr.  Wilberforce 
to  say,  that  "  all  the  world  is  wild  about  Dr.  Chalmers." 
The  following  is  a  sample  of  his  reasoning:  — 

"The  world  in  which  we  live  is  a  round  ball  of  a  deter- 
mined magnitude,  and  occupies  its  own  place  in  the  firma- 
ment. But  when  we  explore  the  unlimited  tracts  of  that  space 
which  are  everywhere  around  us,  we  meet  with  other  balls 
of  equal  or  superior  magnitude,  and  from  which  our  earth 
would  either  be  invisible,  or  appear  as  small  as  any  of  those 
twinkling  stars  which  are  seen  on  the  canopy  of  heaven. 

"  Why  then  suppose,"  he  continues,  "  that  this  little  spot  — 
little  at  least  in  the  immensity  which  surrounds  it  —  should 
be  the  exclusive  abode  of  life  and  of  intelligence?  What 
reason  to  think  that  those  mightier  globes,  which  roll  in 
other  parts  of  creation,  and  which  we  have  discovered  to  be 
worlds  in  magnitude,  are  not  also  worlds  in  use  and  in  dig- 
nity.? Why  should  we  think  that  the  great  Architect  of 
nature,  supreme  in  wisdom  as  he  is  in  power,  would  call 
these  stately  mansions  into  existence,  and  leave  them  unoc- 
cupied.?    When  we  cast  our  eye  over  the  broad  sea,  and  look 

229 


230  APPENDIX. 

at  the  country  on  the  other  side,  we  see  nothing  but  the  blue 
land  stretching  obscurely  over  the  distant  horizon.  We  are 
too  far  away  to  perceive  the  richness  of  its  scenery,  or  to 
hear  the  sound  of  its  population.  Whj^  not  extend  this  prin- 
ciple to  the  still  more  distant  parts  of  the  universe.''  What 
though,  from  this  remote  point  of  observation,  we  can  see 
nothing  but  the  naked  roundness  of  yon  planetary  orbs? 
Are  we,  therefore,  to  saj',  that  they  are  so  many  vast  and 
unpeopled  solitudes.?  that  desolation  reigns  in  every  part  of 
the  universe  but  ours.?  that  the  whole  energy  of  the  divine 
attributes  is  expended  on  one  insignificant  corner  of  these 
mighty  works.?  and  that  to  this  earth  alone  belongs  the 
bloom  of  vegetation,  or  the  blessedness  of  life,  or  the  dignity 
of  rational  and  immortal  existence.?  .  .  .  Who  shall  assign  a 
limit  to  the  discoveries  of  future  ages.?  .  .  .  The  day  may  yet 
be  coming  when  our  instruments  of  observation  shall  be  in- 
conceivably more  powerful.  .  .  .  We  may  see  summer  throw- 
ing its  green  mantle  over  these  mightj-^  tracts,  and  we  may 
see  them  left  naked  and  colorless  after  the  flush  of  vegeta- 
tion has  disappeared.  In  the  progress  of  years,  or  of  centu- 
ries, we  may  trace  the  hand  of  cultivation  spreading  a  new 
aspect  over  some  portion  of  a  planetary  surface.  Perhaps 
some  large  city,  the  metropolis  of  a  mighty  empire,  may  ex- 
pand into  a  visible  spot  by  the  powers  of  some  future  tele- 
scope. Perhaps  the  glass  of  some  observer,  in  a  distant  age, 
may  enable  him  to  construct  a  map  of  another  world,  and  to 
lay  down  the  surface  of  it  in  all  its  minute  and  topical  varie- 
ties. But  there  is  no  end  of  conjecture,  and  to  the  men  of 
other  times  we  leave  the  full  assurance  of  what  we  can  assert 
with  the  highest  probability,  that  yon  planetary  orbs  are  so 
many  worlds,  that  they  teem  with  life,  and  that  the  might\' 
Being  who  presides  in  high  authority  over  this  scene  of 
grandeur  and  astonishment,  has  there  planted  worshippers 
of  his  glory." 

This  same  line  of  reasoning  is  thus  stated  by  Figuior  :  — 
"  What,  the  earth,  that  represents  only  a  grain  of  dust  lost 
in  inlinile  space,  shall  it  be  the  only  seat  of  life,  and  shall 


APPENDIX.  231 

planets  a  hundred  times,  a  thousand  times,  fourteen  hundred 
times  larger,  be  only  a  vast  grave,  the  one  nothing  in  the  uni- 
verse, the  one  emptj  edifice  in  the  economy  of  nature?  Is  life 
on  our  globe  —  that  insignificant  atom  —  to  be  heaped  up, 
pressed  down,  and  running  over,  filling  every  space,  so  that 
not  a  corner  of  its  surface  is  empty,  while  in  the  rest  of  the 
universe  not  a  sign  of  life  is  discoverable?" 
•  Proctor,  in  "  Orbs  Around  Us"  presents  the  argument  re- 
specting Jupiter  in  the  following  form  :  — 

"  The  chief  arguments  for  the  habitabilitj^  of  Jupiter  aie 
founded  on  his  enormous  magnitude,  and  the  magnificence 
of  the  system  which  circles  around  him.  It  seems  difficult  to 
imagine  that  so  grand  an  orb  has  been  created  for  no  special 
purpose,  and  it  is  equally  difficult  to  conceive  what  purpose 
Jupiter  can  be  said  to  fulfil,  unless  he  is  the  abode  of  living 
creatures.  He  is,  indeed,  an  object  of  wonder  and  admira- 
tion; but  the  mind  must  be  singularly  constituted  which  can 
accept  the  view  that  Jupiter  was  constructed  for  no  other  end. 
When  every  object  around  us  suffices  to  exhibit  the  omnipo- 
tence of  the  Creator,  we  require  no  such  evidence  as  is  af- 
forded by  a  globe  exceeding  the  earth  twelve  hundred  times 
and  more  in  volume.  The  light  afforded  to  us  by  Jupiter  is 
so  insignificant,  also,  that  we  cannot  suppose  him  to  have 
been  created  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  supply  it.  His 
influence  in  swaying  the  planetary  motions  is  important,  and 
he  also  appears  to  have  a  noteworthy  influence  on  the  sun's 
atmosphere;  but  neither  influence  seems  necessary  to  the 
well-being  of  the  inhabitants  of  earth.  Thus  we  appear 
forced  to  concede  that  Jupiter  has  been  constructed  to  be  the 
abode  of  living  creatures,  unless  we  suppose  that  his  func- 
tion is  to  swaj'  the  motions  of  his  satellites,  and  that  these 
satellites  are  inhabited." 

The  great  mistake  in  this  line  of  argument  is,  that  while  a 
true  absolute  estimate  is  placed  upon  Jupiter,  the  relative 
grandeur  of  humanity  is  entii-ely  overlooked.  If  man  is  what 
we  take  him  to  be,  and  if  he  can  measure  and  weigh  the  stars 
and  planets,  that  of  itself  is,  perhaps,  enough. 


232  APPENDIX. 

B.   (Page  19.) 

"  Plurality  of  Worlds  "  states  these  facts  in  a  form  to  render 
them  grand  and  imposing:  — 

"  The  orbit  of  Saturn  is  ten  times  as  wide  as  the  orbit  of 
the  Earth  ;  but  beyond  Saturn,  and  almost  twice  as  far  from 
the  Sun,  Herschel  discovered  Uranus,  another  great  planet; 
and  again,  beyond  Uranus,  and  again,  at  nearly  twice  his 
distance,  the  subtile  sagacity  of  the  astronomers  of  our  day 
surmises,  and  then  detects,  another  great  planet.  In  such  a 
system  as  thi-^,  the  earth  shrinks  into  insignificance.  Can  its 
concerns  engage  the  attention  of  Him  who  made  the  whole? 
But  again,  the  whole  solar  system  itself,  with  all  its  orbits 
and  planets,  shrinks  into  a  mere  point,  when  compared  with 
the  nearest  fixed  star.  And  again,  the  distance  which  lies 
between  us  and  such  stars  shrinks  into  incalculable  small- 
ness  when  we  journey  in  thought  to  other  fixed  stars.  And 
again  and  again,  the  field  of  our  previous  contemplation  suf- 
fers an  immeasurable  contraction,  as  we  pass  on  to  other 
points  of  view." 

General  Mitchell  likewise  speaks  of  these  matters  with  the 
eloquence  of  one  who  appreciates  them  :  "  As  we  fathom  the 
profundity  of  space,  and  visit  the  island  universes  that  stretch 
away  in  a  vast  illimitable  perspective;  when  suns  and  sys- 
tems tower  in  grandeur  on  the  right  hand  and  on  the  left, 
and  the  vast  of  space  teems  with  glittering  worlds,  like  sands 
upon  the  sea-shore;  as  we  reach  the  nearest  portion  of  that 
vast  congeries  of  stars  which  we  denominate  the  Milky  Way, 
composed  of  not  less  than  one  hundred  millions  of  suns;  as 
we  plunge  yet  deeper  into  space,  and  find  other  Milky  Ways, 
grander  and  more  populous  in  stars  even  than  our  own,  until, 
at  last,  our  telescopic  ray  extends  so  deeply  that  its  length, 
furnishing  a  journey  for  the  swift  wing  of  more  than  three 
millions  of  years,  fails  to  plunge  across  any  other  mighty 
depth,  —  then  we  are  left  to  stand  in  a  wondering  and  awe- 
struck silence  upon  merely  the  threshold  of  infinitude." 

Yes,  if  we  are  thus  left,  God's  purposes  may  have  been 
accomplished. 


APPENDIX.  233 

C.   (Page  38.) 

The  phenomena  resulting  from  two  suns  shining  upon  the 
same  planet,  is  well  described  by  Figuier :  — 

"  What  strange  effects  must  these  polychromatic  suns  pro- 
duce on  the  planets  that  they  illuminate!  As  we  know  only 
our  sun,  whose  light  is  white,  it  is  difficult  for  us  to  imagine 
the  odd  consequences  that  must  result  from  the  illumination 
of  a  planetary  globe  and  its  atmosphere  by  the  rays  of  blue, 
brown,  or  green  suns.  How  queer  the  soil  of  these  planets 
must  look,  the  objects  that  stand  on  its  surface,  such  as 
mountains  and  hills,  and  the  rivers  and  seas,  clouds  and 
vegetation,  when  all  are  illuminated  by  a  blue  or  red  light, 
by  floods  of  scarlet  or  indigo!  We,  who  know  Nature  in  no 
other  guise  but  that  which  she  wears  on  the  globe  in  which 
we  are  confined,  can  hardly  conceive  of  such  effects.  What, 
then,  if  we  could  imagine  planets  lighted  during  the  same 
day  by  two  successive  suns  of  different  colors!  It  is  noon, 
and  a  blue  sun  inundates  the  globe  with  floods  of  its  indigo 
light.  The  parts  strongly  illuminated  are  bright  blue  —  a 
resplendent  azure;  those  feebly  illuminated  are  dark  blue; 
the  half  tints  are  pale  blue.  Clouds,  waters,  and  vegetation 
share  the  common  hue.  The  stars  are  visible  in  the  day- 
time, on  account  of  the  faint  illumination  of  the  heavens. 
But  as  the  blue  sun  sinks,  see  its  successor  rise  on  the  op- 
posite horizon.  It  is  red,  and  purple  flashes  announce  its 
coming.  One  would  think  that  a  mighty  conflagration 
lighted  up  the  east.  While  on  this  side  of  the  horizon  the 
purple  spreads  wider  and  wider  over  the  heavens,  the  blue 
rays  gather  about  the  setting  sun,  and  color  the  curves  of  the 
horizon  with  azure  reflections.  What  a  contrast  between  these 
two  illuminations,  on  the  two  sides  of  the  heavens!  and,  in 
the  interval,  what  strange  combinations  must  result  from  the 
fusion  of  these  two  lights,  so  diverse  in  tone!  We  cannot 
hope  to  describe  pictures,  of  which  nothing  around  us  can 
suggest  even  an  approximate  idea.  The  poet's  imagination 
and  the  painter's  art  would  be  powerless  to  conjecture  the 
marvellous  effects  that  the  palette  of  Nature  realizes  in  these 


234  APPENDIX. 

enchanted  regions.  Where  two  suns,  the  one  red  and  the 
other  green,  or  even  one  brown  and  the  other  blue,  succes- 
sively illuminate  the  same  lands,  what  charming  contrasts, 
what  brilliant  alternations,  must  be  created  by  the  fusion, 
which  takes  place  at  certain  moments,  of  the  red  light  and 
the  green,  or  the  brown  light  and  the  blue!  O  Nature,  what 
wonderful  aspects,  what  sublime  perspectives,  thou  must  put 
on,  in  those  mysterious  worlds,  to  charm  the  eyes  of  their 
fortunate  inhabitants!  And  the  satellites,  the  moons  that 
light  up  the  nights  of  their  planets,  what  a  strange  spectacle 
must  they  present,  in  those  strange  realms  where  the  eye  is 
eternal!  The  moon  takes  on  in  turn  the  hues  of  the  two 
suns,  which  are  reflected,  one  after  the  other,  on  its  glow- 
ing disk.  The  phases  of  the  moon  seen  by  the  dwellers  in 
these  worlds  are  now  red,  now  blue :  hence  there  is  a  red 
quarter  of  the  moon,  and  a  blue  quarter.  Such  a  moon  has 
a  brown  crescent,  which  succeeds  a  green  one.  When  it  is 
at  the  full,  the  moon  of  these  parts  resembles  an  enormous 
green  fruit  wandering  in  the  heavens'.  There  are  moons  in 
shades  of  ruby,  detached  on  the  dark  ground  of  the  firma- 
ment. Others  have  opaline  or  azure  reflections.  Some  glit- 
ter like  diamonds  in  their  circle  around  the  planets,  which 
are  plunged  in  shade.  O  modest  moon  of  ours!  no  doubt 
thy  peaceful  light  speaks  to  our  softened  and  thoughtful 
souls;  but  how  much  deeper  must  be  the  impressions,  how 
far  more  potent  the  charm,  earnest  the  admiration,  and  in- 
toxicating the  reverence  inspired  in  the  dwellers  in  those  far 
worlds,  by  the  moons  of  ruby,  sapphire,  and  emerald  that 
illuminate  the  stillness  and  serenity  of  their  nights!  " 


D.     (Page  44.) 

On  September  7,  1871,  Professor  Young,  of  Dartmouth  Col- 
lege, was  observing  a  large  hydrogen  cloud  by  the  sun's  edge. 
This  cloud  was  about  one  hundred  thousand  miles  long;  and 
its  upper  surface  was  some  fifty  thousand  miles,  the  lower 
surface  about  fifteen  thousand  miles  above  the  sun's  surface. 


APPENDIX.  235 

The  whole  had  the  appearance  of  being  supported  on  pillars 
of  fire;  these  seeming  pillars  being  in  reality  hydrogen  jets, 
brighter  and  more  active  than  the  substance  of  the  cloud.  At 
half  past  twelve,  when  Professor  Young  chanced  to  be  called 
away  from  his  observatory,  there  were  no  indications  of  any 
approaching  change,  except  that  one  of  the  connecting  stems 
of  the  southern  extremity  of  the  cloud  had  grown  considera- 
bly brighter,  and  more  curiously  bent  to  one  side;  and  near 
the  base  of  another,  at  the  northern  end,  a  little  brilliant 
lump  had  developed  itself,  shaped  much  like  a  summer  thun- 
der-head. 

But  when  Professor  Young  returned,  about  half  an  hour 
later,  he  found  that  a  very  remarkable  change  had  taken 
place,  and  that  a  very  remarkable  process  was  actually  in 
progress.  "  The  whole  thing  had  been  literally  blown  to 
shreds,"  he  says,  "  by  some  inconceivable  uprush  from  be- 
neath. In  place  of  the  quiet  cloud  I  had  left,  the  air,  if  I 
may  use  the  expression,  was  filled  with  flying  debris^  a  mass 
of  detached  vertical  fusiform  fragments,  each  from  ten  to 
thirty  seconds  (i.  e.,  from  four  thousand  five  hundred  to  thir- 
teen thousand  five  hundred  miles)  long  by  two  or  three 
seconds  (nine  hundred  or  thirteen  hundred  and  fifty  miles) 
wide,  brighter,  and  closer  together  where  the  pillars  had  for- 
merly stood,  and  rapidly  ascending.  When  I  looked,  some 
of  them  had  already  reached  a  height  of  nearly  four  minutes 
(one  hundred  thousand  miles)  ;  and  while  I  watched  them, 
they  rose  with  a  motion  almost  perceptible  to  the  eye,  until, 
in  ten  minutes,  the  uppermost  were  more  than  two  huiTdred 
thousand  miles  above  the  solar  surface.  This  was  ascertained 
by  careful  measurements,  the  mean  of  three  closely  accordant 
determinations  giving  two  hundred  and  ten  thousand  miles 
as  the  extreme  altitude  attained.  I  am  particular  in  the 
statement,  because,  so  far  as  I  know,  chromatospheric  mat- 
ter (red  hydrogen  in  this  case)  has  never  before  been  ob- 
served at  anj^  altitude  exceeding  five  minutes,  or  one  hundred 
and  thirty-five  thousand  miles.  The  velocity  of  ascent,  also, 
—  one  hundred  and  sixty-seven  miles  per  second,  —  is  con- 
siderably greater  than   anything  hitherto  recorded.  .  .  .  As 


236  APPENDIX. 

the  filaments  rose,  they  gradually  faded  away  like  a  dis- 
solving cloud,  and  at  a  quarter  past  one  only  a  few  filmy 
wisps,  with  some  brighter  streamers  low  down,  near  the 
chromatosphere,  remained  to  mark  the  place.  But  in  the 
mean  while,  the  little  "  thunder-head  "  before  alluded  to  had 
grown  and  developed  wonderfully  into  a  mass  of  rolling  and 
ever-changing  flame,  to  speak  according  to  appearances. 
First,  it  was  crowded  down,  as  it  were,  along  the  solar  sur- 
face; later,  it  rose  almost  pyramidally  fifty  thousand  miles 
in  height;  then  its  summit  was  drawn  down  into  long  fila- 
ments and  threads,  which  were  most  curiously  rolled  back- 
wards and  forwards  like  the  volutes  of  an  Ionic  capital;  and 
finally  faded  awaj',  and  by  half  past  two  had  vanished,  like 
the  other.  The  whole  phenomenon  suggested  most  forcibly 
the  idea  of  an  explosion  under  the  great  prominence,  acting 
mainlj'  upwards,  but  also  in  all  directions  outwards,  and 
then,  after  an  interval,  followed  by  a  corresponding  inrush; 
and  it  seems  far  from  impossible  that  the  mysterious  coronal 
streamers,  if  they  turn  out  to  be  truly  solar,  as  now  seems 
likely,  may  find  their  origin  and  explanation  in  such  events." 

We  are  indebted  to  Professor  Winlock,  of  Harvard  Uni- 
versity, for  the  accompanying  views  of  solar  eruptions  and 
flames.  His  means  of  taking  and  photographing  such  views 
are  unsurpassed  by  any  elsewhere  in  the  world. 

It  is  with  great  pleasure,  also,  that  we  confess  our  obliga- 
tion to  him  for  many  valuable  suggestions  as  to  the  data 
presented  in  the  division  of  the  book  entitled  "The  Field." 

It  is  due  to  the  professor  to  say,  also,  that  for  the  scientific 
errors  he  will  not  be  held  responsible,  and  that  had  we  fol- 
lowed his  opinions  more  closely,  we  should  have  been  less 
venturesome  :  especially  should  we  have  placed  less  stress 
upon  the  irregularity  of  motion  among  the  fixed  stars,  since 
the  orbits  of  at  least  two  (as  we  have  since  learned)  seem  to 
most  astronomers  to  be  pretty  well  established;  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  we  should  have  been  far  more  emphatic  respect- 
ing the  planet  Mars,  for  some  of  the  statements  of  Mr.  Proc- 
tor as  to  the  climatology  and  inhabitability  of  that  planet  are 
treated  by  Professor  Winlock  as  positively  ridiculous. 


APPENDIX.  237 

E.   (Page  44.) 

Professor  Kirchhoff,  in  his  chapter  on  the  "Physical 
Constitution  of  the  Sun,"  saj's,  "The  niost  probable  suppo- 
sition -which  can  be  made  respecting  the  sun's  constitution 
is,  that  it  consists  of  a  solid  or  liquid  nucleus,  heated  to  a 
temperature  of  the  brightest  -whiteness,  surrounded  bv  an 
atmosphere  of  some-what  lower  temperature.  This  suppo- 
sition is  in  accordance  -with  La  Place's  celebrated  nebular 
theory  respecting  the  formation  of  our  planetary  system.  If 
the  matter  now  concentrated  in  the  several  heavenly  bodies 
existed  in  former  times  as  an  extended  and  continuous  mass 
of  vapor,  by  the  contraction  of  -which,  sun,  planets,  and 
moons  have  been  formed,  all  these  bodies  must  necessarily 
possess  mainly  the  same  constitution.  Geology  teaches  us 
that  the  earth  once  existed  in  a  state  of  fusion  ;  and  we  are 
compelled  to  admit  that  the  same  state  of  things  has  occurred 
in  the  other  members  of  our  solar  system.  The  amount  of 
cooling  which  the  various  heavenly  bodies  have  undergone, 
in  accordance  with  the  laws  of  radiation  of  heat,  differs 
greatly,  owing  mainly  to  the  difference  in  their  masses. 
Thus,  whilst  the  moon  has  become  cooler  than  the  earth,  the 
temperature  of  the  surface  of  the  sun  has  not  yet  sunk  below 
a  white  heat.  Our  terrestrial  atmosphere,  in  which  now  so 
few  elements  are  found,  must  have  possessed,  when  the  earth 
was  in  a  state  of  fusion,  a  much  more  complicated  composi- 
tion, as  it  then  contained  all  those  substances  which  are  vol- 
atile at  a  white  heat.  The  solar  atmosphere,  at  this  time, 
possesses  a  similar  constitution." 

The  following  views  are  taken  from  the  address  of  Sir 
William  Thomson,  at  the  Edinburgh  'meeting  of  the  British 
Scientific  Association,  1871  :  — 

"The  old  nebular  hypothesis  supposes  the  solar  system, 
and  other  similar  systems  through  the  universe,  which  we 
see  at  a  distance  as  stars,  to  have  originated  in  the  conden- 
sation of  fiery  nebulous  matter.  This  hypothesis  was  in- 
vented before  the  discovery  of  thermo-dynamics,  or  the  neb- 
ulae would  not  have  been  supposed  to  be  fiery ;  and  the  idea 


238  APPENDIX. 

seems  never  to  have  occurred  to  any  of  its  inventors  or  early 
supporters,  that  the  matter,  the  condensation  of  which  they 
supposed  to  constitute  the  sun  and  stars,  could  have  been 
other  than  fiery  in  the  beginning.  Mayer  first  suggested 
that  the  heat  of  the  sun  may  be  due  to  gravitation;  but  he 
supposed  meteors  falling  in  to  keep  ahvajs  generating  the 
heat,  which  is  radiated,  year  by  year,  from  the  sun.  Ilelm- 
holtz,  on  the  other  hand,  adopting  the  nebular  hypothesis, 
showed,  in  1854,  that  it  was  not  necessary  to  suppose  the 
nebulous  matter  to  have  been  originally  fierj'^,  but  that  mu- 
tual gravitation  between  its  parts  may  have  generated  the 
heat  to  which  the  present  high  temperature  of  the  sun  is 
due.  Further,  he  made  the  important  observations  that  the 
potential  energy  of  gravitation  in  the  sun  is  even  now  far 
from  exhausted;  but  that,  with  further  and  further  shrink- 
ing, more  and  more  heat  is  to  be  generated,  and  that  thus  we 
can  conceive  the  sun  now  to  possess  a  sufficient  store  of  en- 
ergy to  produce  heat  and  light,  almost  as  at  present,  for  sev- 
eral million  years  of  time  future.  It  ought,  however,  to  be 
added,  that  this  condensation  can  only  follow  from  cooling, 
and  therefore  that  Ilelmholtz's  gravitational  explanation  of 
future  sun-heat  amounts  really  to  showing  that  the  sun's 
thermal  capacity  is  enormously  greater,  in  virtue  of  the  mu- 
tual gravitation  between  the  parts  of  so  enormous  a  mass, 
than  the  sum  of  the  thermal  capacities  of  separate  and 
smaller  bodies,  of  the  same  material  and  same  total  mass. 

"  For  a  few  years,  Mayer's  theory  of  solar  heat  had  seemed 
to  me  probable;  but  I  had  been  led  to  regard  it  as  no  longer 
tenable,  because  I  had  been  in  the  first  place  driven,  by  con- 
sideration of  the  very  approximate  constancy  of  the  earth's 
period  of  revolution  round  the  sun  for  the  last  two  thousand 
years,  to  conclude  that  *  the  principal  source,  perhaps  the 
sole  appreciably  effective  source,  of  sun  heat  is  in  bodies 
circulating  round  the  sun  at  present  inside  the  earth's  orbit;* 
and  because  Levcrricr's  researches  on  the  motion  of  the 
planet  Mercury,  though  gi\ing  evidence  of  a  sensible  inllu- 
ence  attributable  to  matter  circuIatiiiLj  as  a  great  niunbcr  of 
small  planets  within   his  orbit    round   the  sun,  showed  that 


APPENDIX.  239 

the  amount  of  matter  that  could  possibly  be  assumed  to  cir- 
culate at  any  considerable  distance  from  the  sun  must  be 
very  small ;  and  therefore,  'if  the  meteoric  influx  taking  place 
at  present  is  enough  to  produce  any  appreciable  portion  of 
the  heat  radiated  away,  it  must  be  supposed  to  be  from  mat- 
ter circulating  round  the  sun,  within  very  short  distances  of 
his  surface.  The  density  of  this  meteoric  cloud  would  have 
to  be  supposed  so  great,  that  comets  could  scarcely  have  es- 
caped as  comets  actually  have  escaped,  showing  no  discover- 
able effects  of  resistance,  after  passing  his  surface  within  a 
distance  equal  to  one  eighth  of  his  radius.  All  things  con- 
sidered, there  seems  little  probability  in  the  hypothesis  that 
solar  radiation  is  compensated,  to  any  appreciable  degree, 
by  heat  generated  by  meteors  falling  in  at  present;  and  as  it 
can  be  shown  that  no  chemical  theory  is  tenable,  it  must  be 
concluded  as  most  probable  that  the  sun  is  at  present  merely 
an  incandescent  liquid  mass  cooling.' 

"Thus,  on  purely  astronomical  grounds,  was  I  long  ago 
led  to  abandon  as  very  improbable  the  hypothesis  that  the 
sun's  heat  is  supplied  dynamically,  from  year  to  year,  by  the 
influx  of  meteors.  But  now,  spectrum  analysis  gives  proof 
finally  conclusive  against  it." 

It  is  Professor  Winlock's  opinion  that  the  sun  is  neither 
solid  nor  liquid,  but  gaseous  throughout. 


F.    (Page  46.) 

The  following  is  the  method  by  which  Wolf  is  facetiously 
represented  as  reaching  his  conclusions  :  — 

"It  is  shown,  in  optics,  that  the  pupil  of  the  eye  dilates 
and  contracts,  according  to  the  degree  of  light  it  encounters. 
Wherefore,  since  in  Jupiter  the  sun's  meridian  height  is  much 
weaker  than  on  the  earth,  the  pupil  will  need  to  be  much 
more  dilatable  in  the  Jovial  creature  than  in  the  terrestrial 
one.  But  .the  pupil  is  observed  to  have  a  constant  propor- 
tion to  the  ball  of  the  eye,  and  the  ball  of  the  eye  to  the  rest 
of  the  body;  so  that,  in  animals,  the  larger  the  pupil,  the 
larger  the  eye,  and  consequently  the  larger  the  body.     As- 


240  APPENDIX. 

suming  that  these  conditions  are  unquestionable,  he  shows 
that  Jupiter's  distance  from  the  sun,  compared  with  the 
earth's,  is  as  twentv-6ix  to  five.  The  intensity  of  the  sun's 
light  in  Jupiter  is  to  its  intensity  on  the  earth,  in  a  duplicate 
ratio,  five  to  twenty-six.  The  eyes  of  the  Jovians,  and  their 
dimensions  generally,  must  be  correspondingly  enlarged, 
and  it  therefore  follows  that  even  Goliath  of  Gath  would 
have  cut  but  a  sorry  figure  among  the  natives  of  Jupiter. 
That  is,  supposing  the  Philistine's  altitude  to  be  somewhere 
between  eight  feet  and  eleven,  according  as  we  lean  to  Bishop 
Cumberland's  calculation,  or  the  Vatican  copy  of  the  Septu- 
agint.  Now,  Wolfius  proves  the  size  of  the  inhabitants  of 
Jupiter  to  be  the  same  as  that  of  Og,  king  of  Bashan,  whose 
ii-on  camp-bed  was  nine  cubits  in  length,  and  four  in  breadth  ; 
or  rather  he  shows,  in  the  way  stated,  the  ordinary  altitude 
of  the  Jovicolae  to  be  iS^Wq  P^^fis  feet,  and  the  height  of  Og 
to  have  been  islf^f  feet." 

Proctor  sliows,  in  the  following  manner,  how  easily  an 
entirely  difterent  conclusion  may  be  reached  :  — 

"We,  on  the  other  hand,"  he  says,  "are  led  to  the  con- 
clusion that  the  Jovicolai  are  pygmies,  about  two  and  a 
half  feet,  on  an  average,  in  height.  For  we  know  that  a 
man,  removed  to  Jupiter,  would  weigh  about  two  and  a 
half  times  as  much  as  he  does  on  our  own  earth.  He  would 
thus  be  oppressed  with  a  burden  equivalent  to  half  as  much 
again  as  his  own  weight.  This  would  render  life  itself  an 
insupportable  burden  :  and  we  have  to  inquire  what  ditYer- 
ence  of  size  would  sufllcc  to  make  a  Joveman  as  active  as  our 
terrestrial  man.  Now,  the  weight  of  bodies  similarly  pro- 
portioned varies  as  the  third  power  of  the  height.  For  ex- 
ample, a  body  twice  as  high  as  another  in  other  respects 
similar,  will  be  eight  times  as  heavy.  But  the  muscular 
power  of  animals  varies  as  the  cross  section  of  corresponding 
muscles,  or  obviously  as  the  square  of  the  linear  dimensions  ; 
so  that,  of  two  animals  similarly  constituted,  but  one  twice 
as  liigli  as  the  other,  the  larger  would  be  lour  times  the  more 
powerful,  lie  would  weigh,  however,  eight  times  as  much 
as  the  other.  Me  would  therefore  be  only  half  as  active. 
Similarlv,  an  animal  three  times  as  high   as  another  of  sim- 


APPENDIX.  241 

ilar  build,  would  be  only  one  third  as  active;  and  so  on 
for  all  such  relations.  Now,  since  a  terrestrial  man,  re- 
moved to  Jupiter,  would  be  two  and  a  half  times  as  heavy  as 
on  the  earth,  it  follows,  obviously,  that  a  man  on  Jupiter, 
proportioned  like  our  terrestrial  men,  would  be  as  active  as 
they  are,  if  his  height  were  to  theirs  as  one  to  two  and"  a  half. 
Hence,  setting  six  feet  as  the  maximum  ordinary  height  of 
men  on  earth,  we  see  that  the  tallest  and  handsomest  of  the 
Jovicolse  can  be  but  two  and  a  half  feet  in  height,  if  only  our 
jbremtses  are  correct.  Thus  Tom  Thumb,  and  other  little 
fellows,  if  removed  to  Jupiter,  might  be  wondered  at  for  their 
enormous  height,  and  eagerly  sought  after  by  any  Carlylian 
Fredericks  who  may  be  forming  grenadier  corps  out  j'onder." 

Other  views  have  also  been  advanced,  which  we  have  no 
space  to  insert  in  full,  snch  as  that  the  inhabitants  of  Jupiter 
are  bat- winged ;  are  inveterate  dancers;  that  the  bodies  of 
the  Jovials  are  composed  of  numerous  convolutions  of  tubes, 
more  analogous  to  the  trunk  of  the  elephant  than  anything 
else;*  that  they  are  pulpy,  gelatinous  creatures,  living  in  a 
dismal  world  of  water  and  ice,  with  a  cindery  nucleus;! 
that  they  may  have  their  homes  in  subterranean  cities 
warmed  by  central  fires,  or  in  crystal  caves  cooled  by  ocean 
tides,  or  may  float  with  Nereids  upon  the  deep,  or  mount 
upon  wings  as  eagles.  % 

It  is  amusing,  in  other  respects,  to  note  the  diverse  con- 
clusions reached  by  different  writers.  Emmanuel  Kant,  for 
instance,  advances  the  theory  that  souls,  in  their  imperfect 
state,  start  from  the  sun,  travelling  outward  from  planet  to 
planet,  and  reaching  paradise  at  length  in  the  most  remote 
and  coldest  planet  of  all. 

The  astronomer  Bode,  on  the  other  hand,  represents  that 
we  start  in  our  transmigratory  journey  from  the  remotest 
planets,  advancing  progressively  from  one  planet  to  another 
towards  the  sun,  which  is  the  astronomical  paradise  and 
abode  of  the  most  perfect  beings  in  creation.  For  which 
views,  see  M.  Flammarion's  "  Les  Modes  Imaginaires." 

*  Sir  Humphry  Davy.  t  Whewell.  X  Brewster. 

16 


242  APPENDIX. 

There  is  another  matter  which  Charles  Bonnet,  Dupont  of 
Nemours,  Jean  Rejnaud,  Bode,  Kant,  and  Figuier  have  in- 
troduced into  the  subject,  whicli  seems  to  us  much  out  of 
place.  It  assumes  this  form :  Though  the*  astronomical 
bodies  are  uninhabitable  by  human  agents,  they  are  not  by 
spiritual  agents.  They  are  therefore  the  abodes  of  our  de- 
parted friends,  and  the  homes^of  angels. 

It  is  our  privilege  here,  as  before,  to  conjecture  anything 
we  please.  But,  to  be  reasonable,  we  are  compelled  to  say 
that  the  souls  of  the  dead,  and  angelic  existences,  are  not 
physical;  consequently  the  condition  of  the  planets  and  the 
stars,  inhabited  or  uninhabited,  can  make  no  difference  with 
angels  and  the  spirits  of  the  departed.  Their  homes,  we 
can  rest  assured,  are  not  upon  any  physical  and  material 
object  in  space.  It  is  rather  in  the  invisible  and  spiritual 
heavens,  where  there  are  "many  mansions."  Elsewhere 
than  in  the  starry  heavens  will  unfold  to  the  true  children  of 
God  many  vacant  areas,  upon  which  they  can  pitch  their 
sacred  and  substantial  pavilions.  Though  invisible  to  a 
physical  eye,  God  will  provide  —  has  provided.  The  phys- 
ical universe  is  for  other  purposes,  not  for  this. 


G.   (Page  88.) 

Among  those  who  have  tried  to  mitigate  the  circumstances 
attending  the  crime  of  Judas,  W.  W.  Story  has  not  been  sur- 
passed, perhaps,  especially  in  point  of  interest  and  inge- 
nuity. The  title,  "  A  Roman  Lawyer  in  Jerusalem,"  is  sug- 
gestive of  his  method  of  treatment.  The  following  extracts 
will  be  of  interest.     First,  the  question  at  issue  is  stated  :  — 

"The  question  is.  Did  Judas,  doing  this. 
Act  from  base  motives,  and  commit  a  crime? 
Or,  all  things  taken  carefully  in  view, 
Can  he  be  justified  in  what  he  did  ?  " 

Judas  is  then  compared  with  the  other  disciples  :  — 


APPENDIX.  243 

"Those  who  went  with  him  and  believed  in  him 
Were  mostly  dull,  uneducated  men, 
Simple  and  honest,  dazed  by  what  he  did, 
And  misconceiving  every  word  he  said. 
He  led  them  with  him  in  a  spell-bound  awe, 
And  all  his  cures  they  called  miraculous. 

"  '  What !  all  —  all  fled  ? '  I  asked.     '  Did  none  remain  ?' 

*' '  Not  one,'  he  said  ;  *  all  left  him  to  his  fate. 
Not  one  dared  own  he  was  a  follower; 
Not  one  gave  witness  for  him  of  them  all. 
Stop!     When  I  say  not  one  of  them,  I  mean 
No  one  but  Judas, —Judas,  whom  they  call 
The  traitor,  —  who  betrayed  him  to  his  death. 
He  rushed  into  the  council-hall,  and  cried, 
'"Tis  I  have  sinned  — Christus  is  innocent."' 

"  'The  truth  is  truth,  and  let  the  truth  be  told. 
Judas,  I  say,  alone  of  all  the  men 
Who  followed  Christus,  thought  that  he  was  God. 
Some  feared  him  for  his  power  of  miracles; 
Some  were  attracted  by  a  sort  of  spell; 
Some  followed  him  to  hear  his  sweet,  clear  voice, 
And  gentle  speaking,  hearing  with  their  ears, 
And  knowing  not  the  sense  of  what  he  said; 
But  one  alone  believed  he  was  the  Lord, 
The  true  Messiah  of  the  Jews.     That  one 
Was  Judas, —  he  alone  of  all  the  crowd.' 

"  '  He  to  betray  his  Master  for  a  bribe ! 
He  last  of  all !     I  say  this  friend  of  mine 
Was  brave  when  all  the  rest  were  cowards  there.* 

"  '  His  was  a  noble  nature  :  frank  and  bold, 
Almost  to  rashness  bold,  yet  sensitive, 
Who  took  his  dreams  for  firm  realities; 
Who  once  believing,  all  in  all  believed; 


244 


APPENDIX. 

Rushing  at  obstacles  and  scorning  risk, 

Ready  to  venture  all  to  gain  his  end; 

No  compromise  or  subterfuge  for  him, 

His  act  went  from  his  thought  straight  to  the  butt; 

Yet  with  this  ardent  and  impatient  mood 

Was  joined  a  visionary  mind,  that  took 

Impressions  quick  and  fine,  yet  deep  as  life. 

Therefore  it  was  that  in  this  subtile  soil 

The  Master's  words  took  root,  and  grew,  and  flowered. 

He  heard,  and  followed,  and  obeyed;   his  faith 

Was  serious,  earnest,  real  —  winged  to  fly; 

He  doubted  not,  like  some  who  walked  with  him; 

Desired  no  first  place,  as  did  James  and  John; 

Denied  him  not  with  Peter:  not  to  him 

His  Master  said,  "Away!  thou'rt  an  offence; 

Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan  !  "  —  not  to  him, 

"Am  I  so  long  with  ye  who  know  me  not?" 

Fixed  as  a  rock,  untempted  by  desires 

To  gain  the  post  of  honor  when  his  Lord 

Should  come  to  rule  —  chosen  from  out  the  midst 

Of  six-score  men  as  his  apostle  —  then 

Again  selected  to  the  place  of  trust, 

Unselfish,  honest,  he  among  them  walked. 

"  'That  he  was  honest,  and  was  so  esteemed, 
Is  plain  from  this,  —  they  chose  him  out  of  all 
To  bear  the  common  purse,  and  take,  and  pay. 
John  says  he  was  a  thief,  because  he  grudged 
The  price  that  for  some  ointment  once  was  paid, 
And  urged  'twere  better  given  to  the  poor. 
But  did  not  Christus  ever  for  the  poor 
Lift  up  his  voice,  —  "  Give  all  things  to  the  poor; 
Sell  everything  and  give  all  to  the  poor  I" 
And  Judas,  who  believed,  not  made  believe. 
Used  his  own  words,  and  Christus,  who  excused 
The  gift  because  of  love,  rebuked  him  not. 
Thief!  ay,  he  'twas,  this  very  thief,  they  chose 
To  bear  the  purse,  and  give  ahns  to  tiie  poor. 
I,  for  my  part,  see  nothing  wrong  in  this.' 


APPENDIX.  345 

'  But  why,  if  Judas  was  a  man  like  this, 
Frank,  noble,  honest,'  — here  I  interposed,— 
'  Why  was  it  that  he  thus  betrayed  his  Lord?  ' 

'  This  question  oft  did  I  revolve,'  said  he, 
'  When  all  the  facts  were  fresh,  and  oft  revolved 
In  later  days,  and  with  no  change  of  mind; 
And  this  is  my  solution  of  the  case:  — 

'  '  Daily  he  heard  his  Master's  voice  proclaim, 
"  I  am  the  Lord  !  the  Father  lives  in  me  ! 
Who  knoweth  me  knows  the  Eternal  God! 
He  who  believes  in  me  shall  never  die ! 
No !  he  shall  see  me  with  my  angels  come 
With  power  and  glory  here  upon  the  earth 
To  judge  the  quick  and  dead  !     Among  you  here 
Some  shall  not  taste  of  death  before  I  come 
God's  kingdom  to  establish  on  the  earth ! " 

' '  What  meant  these  words  ?    They  seethed  in  Judas'  soul. 
"  Here  is  my  God  — Messias,  King  of  kings, 
Christus,  the  Lord  —  the  Saviour  of  us  all. 
How  long  shall  he  be  taunted  and  reviled, 
And  threatened  by  this  crawling  scum  of  men? 
O,  who  shall  urge  the  coming  of  that  day 
When  he  in  majesty  shall  clothe  himself, 
And  stand  before  the  astounded. world  its  King?" 
Long  brooding  over  this  inflamed  his  soul; 
And,  ever  rash  in  schemes  as  wild  in  thought, 
At  last  he  said,  "  No  longer  will  I  bear 
This  ignominy  heaped  upon  my  Lord. 
No  man  hath  power  to  harm  the  Almighty  One. 
Ay,  let  men's  hand  be  lifted,  then,  at  once, 
Effulgent  like  the  sun,  swift  like  the  sword, 
The  jagged  lightning-flashes  from  the  cloud. 
Shall  he  be  manifest—  the  living  God  — 
And  prostrate  all  shall  on  the  earth  adore !  "  '  " 


246  APPENDIX. 

The  following  extract  from  De  Qiiincej  will  sufficiently 
express  his  effort  to  exonerate  Judas  :  — 

"Everj'thing  connected  with  our  ordinary  conceptions  of 
this  man,  Judas  Iscariot,  of  his  real  purposes,  and  of  his 
scriptural  doom,  apparently  is  erroneous.  Not  one  thing, 
but  all  things,  must  rank  as  false  which  traditionally  we 
accept  about  him.  That  neither  any  motive  of  his,  nor  any 
ruling  impulse,  was  tainted  with  the  vulgar  treachery  im- 
puted to  him,  appears  probable  from  the  strength  of  his 
remorse.  And  this  view  of  his  case  comes  recommended  by 
so  much  of  internal  plausibility,  that  in  Germany  it  has  long 
since  shaped  itself  into  the  following  distinct  hj'pothesis: 
Judas  Iscariot,  it  is  alleged,  participated  in  the  common  de- 
lusion of  the  apostles  as  to  that  earthly  kingdom  which, 
under  the  sanction  and  auspices  of  Christ,  they  supposed  to 
be  waiting  and  ripening  for  the  Jewish  people.  So  far  there 
was  nothing  in  Judas  to  warrant  any  special  wonder  or  any 
separate  blame.  If  //e  erred,  so  did  the  other  apostles.  But 
in  one  point  Judas  went  farther  than  his  brethren  —  viz.,  in 
speculating  upon  the  reasons  of  Christ  for  delaying  the  inau- 
guration of  this  kingdom.  All  things  were  apparently  ripe 
for  it;  all  things  pointed  to  it;  the  expectation  and  languish- 
ing desires  of  many  Hebrew  saints  —  viz.,  the  warning  from 
signs ;  the  prophetic  alarms  propagated  by  heralds  like  the 
Baptist;  the  mysterious  interchange  of  kindling  signals  ris- 
ing suddenly  out  of  darkness  as  secret  words  between  dis- 
tant parties —  secret  question  or  secret  answer ;  the  fermen- 
tation of  revolutionary  doctrines  all  over  Judea;  the  pas- 
sionate impatience  of  the  Roman  yoke;  the  continual  open- 
ings of  new  convulsions  at  the  great  centre  of  Rome;  the 
insurrectionary  temper  of  Jewish  society,  as  indicated  by  the 
continual  rise  of  robber  leaders,  that  drew  off  multitudes 
into  the  neighboring  deserts ;  and,  universally,  the  unsettled 
mind  of  the  Jewisii  nation,  their  deep  unrest,  and  the  anar- 
chy of  their  expectations.  These  explosive  materials  had 
long  been  accumulated;  they  needed  only  a  kindling  spark. 
Heavenly  citations  to  war,  divine  summonses  to   resistance, 


APPENDIX.  247 

had  long  been  read  in  the  insults  and  aggressions  of  pagan- 
ism;  there  wanted  only  a  leader.  And  such  a  leader,  if  he 
would  but  consent  to  assume  that  office,  stood  ready  in  the 
founder  of  Christianity.  The  supreme  qualifications  for 
leadership,  manifested  and  emblazoned  in  the  person  of  Je- 
sus Christ,  were  evident  to  «// parties  in  the  Jewish  commu- 
nity, and  not  merely  to  the  religious  body  of  his  own  imme- 
diate followers.  These  qualifications  were  published  and 
expounded  to  the  world  in  the  facility  with  which  everywhere 
he  drew  crowds  about  himself,  in  the  extraordinary  depth  of 
impression  which  attended  his  teaching,  and  in  the  fear,  as 
well  as  hatred,  which  possessed  the  Jewish  rulers  against 
him.  Indeed,  so  great  was  this  fear,  so  great  was  this  ha- 
tred, that,  had  it  not  been  for  the  predominance  of  the  Roman 
element  in  the  government  of  Judea,  it  is  pretty  certain  that 
Christ  would  have  been  crushed  in  an  earlier  stage  of  his 
career. 

"Believing,  therefore,  as  Judas  did,  and  perhaps  had  reason 
to  do,  that  Christ  contemplated  the  establishment  of  a  tem- 
poral kingdom  —  the  restoration,  in  fact,  of  David's  throne; 
believing  also  that  all  the  conditions  towards  the  realization 
of  such  a  scheme  met  and  centred  in  the  person  of  Christ, 
what  was  it  that,  upon  any  solution  intelligible  to  Judas, 
neutralized  so  grand  a  scheme  of  promise.-*  Simply  and 
obviously,  to  a  man  with  the  views  of  Judas,  it  was  the  char- 
acter of  Christ  himself,  sublimely  over-gifted  for  purposes  of 
speculation,  but,  like  Shakespeare's  great  creation  of  Prince 
Hamlet,  not  correspondingly  endowed  for  the  business  of 
action,  and  the  clamorous  emergencies  of  life.  Indecision 
and  doubt  (such  was  the  interpretation  of  Judas)  crept  over 
the  faculties  of  the  Divine  Man  as  often  as  he  was  summoned 
away  from  his  own  natural  Sabbath  of  heavenly  contempla- 
tion to  the  gross  necessities  of  action.  It  became  important, 
therefore,  according  to  the  views  adopted  by  Judas,  that  his 
Master  should  be  precipitated  into  action  by  a  force  from 
without,  and  thrown  into  the  centre  of  some  popular  move- 
ment, such  as,  once  beginning  to  revolve,  could  not  after- 
wards  be  suspended  or  checked.     Christ  must  be  compro- 


248  APPENDIX. 

mised  before  doubts  could  have  time  to  form.  It  is  by  no 
means  improbable  that  this  may  have  been  the  theory  of 
Judas.  Nor  is  it  at  all  necessary  to  seek  for  the  justification 
of  such  a  theory,  considered  as  a  matter  of  prudential  pol- 
icy, in  Jewish  fanaticism.  The  Jews  of  that  day  were  dis- 
tracted by  internal  schisms.  Else,  and  with  any  benefit  from 
national  unitj',  the  headlong  rapture  of  Jewish  zeal,  when 
combined  in  vindication  of  their  insulted  temple  and  temple- 
worship,  would  have  been  equal  to  the  efibrt  of  dislodging 
the  Roman  legionary  ^oycq,  for  t/ie  vionient^  from  the  military 
possession  of  Palestine.  After  which,  although  the  restora- 
tion of  the  Roman  supremacy  could  not  ultimately  have 
been  evaded,  it  is  by  no  means  certain  that  a  icmpcramentum^ 
or  reciprocal  scheme  of  concessions,  might  not  have  been 
welcome  at  Rome,  such  as  had,  in  fact,  existed  under  Ilerod 
the  Great  and  his  father.  The  radical  power,  under  such  a 
scheme,  would  have  been  lodged  in  Rome,  but  with  sucli 
external  concessions  to  Jewish  nationality  as  might  have 
consulted  the  real  interests  of  both  parties.  Administered 
under  Jewish  names,  the  land  would  have  yielded  a  larger 
revenue  than,  as  a  refractory  nest  of  insurgents,  it  ever  did 
yield  to  the  Roman  exchequer;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  a 
ferocious  bigotry,  which  was  really  sublime  in  its  indomita- 
ble obstinacy,  might  have  been  humored  without  prejudice 
to  the  grandeur  of  the  imperial  claims.  Even  little  Palmyra, 
in  later  times,  was  indulged  to  a  greater  extent,  without 
serious  injury  in  any  quarter,  had  it  not  been  for  the  fem- 
inine arrogance  in  little  insolent  Zenobia,  that  misinter- 
preted and  abused  that  indulgence. 

"The  miscalculation,  in  fact,  of  Judas  Iscaiiot —  supposing 
him  really  to  have  entertained  the  views  ascribed  to  him  — 
did  not  hinge  at  all  upon  political  oversights,  but  upon  a 
total  spiritual  blindness;  in  which  blindness,  however,  he 
went  no  farther  than  at  that  time  did  probably  most  of  his 
brethren.  Upon  thcin.  quite  as  little  as  upon  him,  had  yet 
dawned  the  true  grandeur  of  the  Christian  sclicme.  In  tliis 
onl}' he  outran  his  brethren  —  that,  sharing,  in  their  l)liiKl- 
ness,  he  greatly  exceeded   them   in   presumption.     All   alike 


APPENDIX.  249 

had  imputed  to  their  Master  views  utterly  irreconcilable  with 
the  grandeur  of  his  new  and  heavenly  religion.  It  was  no 
religion  at  all  which  they,  previously  to  the  crucifixion,  sup- 
posed to  be  the  object  of  Christ's  teaching;  it  was  a  mere 
preparation  for  a  pitiably  vulgar  scheme  of  earthly  aggran- 
dizement. But,  whilst  the  other  apostles  had  simply  failed 
to  comprehend  their  Master,  Judas  had  presumptuously  as- 
sumed that  he  did  comprehend  him,  and  understood  his 
purposes  better  than  Christ  himself.  His  object  -was  auda- 
cious in  a  high  degree,  but  (according  to  the  theory  which  I 
am  explaining)  for  that  very  reason  not  treacherous  at  all. 
The  more  that  he  was  liable  to  the  approach  of  audacity,  the 
less  can  he  be  suspected  of  perfidy.  He  supposed  himself 
executing  the  very  innermost  purposes  of  Christ,  but  with 
an  energy  which  it  was  the  characteristic  infirmity  of  Christ 
to  want.  He  fancied  that  by  his  vigor  of  action  were  fulfilled 
those  great  political  changes  which  Christ  approved,  but 
wanted  audacity  to  realize.  His  hope  was,  that,  when  at 
length  actually  arrested  by  the  Jewish  authorities,  Christ 
would  no  longer  vacillate;  he  would  be  forced  into  giving 
the  signal  to  the  populace  of  Jerusalem,  who  would  then  rise 
unanimously,  for  the  double  purpose  of  placing  Christ  at 
the  head  of  an  insurrectionary  movement  and  of  throwing 
off  the  Roman  yoke.  As  regards  the  worldly  prospects  of 
this  scheme,  it  is  by  no  means  improbable  that  Iscariot  was 
right.  It  seems,  indeed,  altogether  impossible  that  he,  who 
(as  the  treasurer  of  the  apostolic  fraternity)  had  in  all  like- 
lihood the  most  of  worldly  wisdom,  and  was  best  acquainted 
with  the  temper  of  the  times,  could  have  made  any  gross 
blunder  as  to  the  wishes  and  secret  designs  of  the  populace 
in  Jerusalem." 

John  Henry  Newman  and  Archbishop  Whately  present 
nothing  essentially  different  in  their  treatment  of  the  case. 
The  chief  trouble  with  all  these  views  is  a  vital  one,  namely, 
they  are  not  in  harmony  with  scriptural  representation.  It  is 
about  equally  easy  to  explain  away  the  deviltry  of  the  devil, 
as  thus  to  excuse  the  treachery  of  Judas. 


250  APPENDIX. 

H.  (Page  no.) 

The  description  given  of  the  murder,  by  Mr.  Webster,  in 
the  trial  of  the  Knapps,  applies  to  every  guilty  person  when 
conscience  is  aroused  :  — 

"  He  has  done  the  murder.  No  eye  has  seen  him.  No  ear 
has  heard  him.  The  secret  is  his  own.  and  it  is  safe.  Ah, 
gentlemen,  that  was  a  dreadful  mistake.  Such  a  secret  can 
be  safe  nowhere.  The  whole  creation  of  God  has  neither 
nook  nor  corner  where  the  guilty  can  bestow  it,  and  say  it  is 
safe.  Not  to  speak  of  that  eye  which  pierces  through  all  dis- 
guises, and  beholds  everything  as  in  the  splendor  of  noon, 
such  secrets  of  guilt  are  never  safe  from  detection,  even  by 
men.  True  it  is,  generally  speaking,  that  "  murder  will  out." 
True  it  is  that  Providence  hath  so  ordained,  and  doth  so  gov- 
ern things,  that  those  who  break  the  great  law  of  Heaven,  by 
shedding  man's  blood,  seldom  succeed  in  avoiding  discover^'. 
Especially  in  a  case  exciting  so  much  attention  as  this,  dis- 
covery must  come,  and  will  come,  sooner  or  later.  A  thou- 
sand eyes  turn  at  once  to  explore  every  man,  every  thing, 
every  circumstance  connected  with  the  time  and  place.  A 
thousand  ears  catch  every  whisper.  A  thousand  excited 
minds  intensely  dwell  on  the  scene,  shedding  all  their  light, 
and  ready  to  kindle  the  slightest  circumstance  into  a  blaze 
of  discovery.  Meantime  the  guilty  soul  cannot  keep  its  own 
secret.  It  is  false  to  itself;  or,  rather,  it  feels  an  irresistible 
impulse  of  conscience  to  be  true  to  itself.  It  labors  under 
its  guilty  possession,  and  knows  not  what  to  do  with  it.  The 
human  heart  was  not  made  for  the  residence  of  such  an  in- 
habitant. It  finds  itself  preyed  on  by  a  torment  which  it 
dares  not  acknowledge  to  God  or  man.  A  vulture  is  devour- 
ing it,  and  it  can  a>k  no  sympathy  or  assistance,  either  from 
heaven  or  earth.  The  secret  which  the  murderer  jiossesses 
soon  comes  to  possess  him;  and,  like  the  evil  spirit  of  which 
we  read,  it  overcomes  him,  and  leads  him  ^vither^oc\er  it 
will.  He  feels  it  beating  at  his  heart,  rising  to  his  throat, 
and  demanding  disclosure,  He  thinks  the  whole  world  sees 
it  in  his  face,  reads  it  in  his  eyes,  and  almost  hears  its  work- 


APPENDIX.  251 

ings  in  the  very  silenct,  of  his  thoughts.  It  has  become  his 
master.  It  betrays  his  discretion,  it  breaks  down  his  cour- 
age, it  conquers  his  prudence.  When  suspicion  from  with- 
out begin  to  embarrass  him,  and  the  net  of  circumstance  to 
entangle  him,  the  fatal  secret  struggles  wath  still  greater  vio- 
lence to  burst  forth.  It  must  be  confessed,  it  will  be  con- 
fessed ;  there  is  no  refuge  from  confession  but  suicide,  and 
suicide  is  confession." 

Shakespeare  depicts  no  less  vividly  the  working  of  a  guilty 
conscience :  — 

"  O  coward  conscience,  how  dost  thou  afflict  me  !  — 

The  lights  burn  blue.  — It  is  now  dead  midnight. 

Cold,  fearful  drops  stand  on  my  trembling  flesh. 

What  do  I  fear.?    Mj^self.?     There's  none  else  by! 

Richard  loves  Richard;  that  is,  I  am  I. 

Is  there  a  murderer  here.''     No: — yes;  I  am. 

Then  fly.    What,  from  mj^self.?     Great  reason  ;  why.'' 

Lest  I  revenge.     What!   myself  upon  mj'self? 

I  love  myself.     Wherefore.''  for  any  good 

That  I  myself  have  done  unto  myself.? 

O,  no :  alas !  I  rather  hate  myself 

For  hateful  deeds  committed  by  myself. 

I  am  a  villain  :  yet  I  lie ;  I  am  not. 

Fool,  of  thyself  speak  well.     Fool,  do  not  flatter. 

My  conscience  hath  a  thousand  several  tongues, 

And  every  tongue  brings  in  a  several  tale, 

And  every  tale  condemns  me  for  a  villain. 

Perjurj',  perjury,  in  the  high'st  degree; 

Murder,  stern  murder,  in  the  dir'st  degree; 

All  several  sins,  all  used  in  each  degree, 

Throng  to  the  bar,  crying  all  —  Guilty!  guilty! 

I  shall  despair.  — There  is  no  creature  loves  me; 

And  if  I  die,  no  soul  will  pity  me  :  — 

Nay,  wherefore  should  they,?  since  that  I  myself 

Find  in  mj^self  no  pity  for  myself. 

Methought  the  souls  of  all  that  I  had  murdered 

Came  to  my  tent;   and  every  one  did  thi-eat 

To-morrow's  vengeance  on  the  head  of  Richard." 


252  APPENDIX. 


I.    (Page    120.) 

Wemjss  states  some  things  respecting  the  Book  of  Job  so 
fairlj  that  we  cannot  well  forbear  direct  quotation  : — 

"DESIGN  OF  THE  BOOK. 

"That  temporal  calamities  are  not  always  sent  as  punish- 
ments of  sin,  but  simply  as  trials  of  faith  and  patience,  and 
as  instructive  examples  to  others.  That  submission  to  the 
will  of  Heaven  is  not  only  the  indispensable  duty  of  afflicted 
persons,  but  the  most  probable  means  of  procuring  their  de- 
liverance and  restoration.  That  God  doth  not  willingly 
afflict  the  children  of  men,  but  has  always  some  higher  pur- 
pose in  view,  —  that  his  administration  of  the  world  must  be 
an  equitable  one,  since  it  could  be  no  profit  to  him  to  oppress 
his  creatures,  —  that  God  deals  with  every  being  in  his  im- 
mense family  in  a  manner  suited  to  its  nature,  wants,  and 
destination,  —  that  in  his  sight  nothing  is  too  lofty,  nothing 
too  low;  that  the  hawk  flies  by  his  wisdom,  and  the  eagle 
soars  at  his  command;  that  even  the  frightful  crocodile  and 
the  huge  rhinoceros  are  the  objects  of  his  care,  and  master- 
pieces of  divine  worktrianship.  That  pain,  disease,  poverty, 
bereavement,  in  every  case,  have  some  higher  end  than  the 
mere  arbitrary  infliction  of  calamity,  —  that  the  sum  and 
substance  of  human  comfort,  in  times  of  trial,  is  a  humble  but 
firm  confidence  in  God,  —  that  the  divine  eye  is  always  open 
and  attentive  to  the  aft'airs  and  actions  of  his  human  off'- 
spring,  and  that  there  is  a  close  connection  between  the  cii\  ine 
superintendence  and  the  subordinate  causes  and  effects  that 
arise  in  the  natural  and  moral  world.  That  God  needs  not 
tiie  vindication  of  his  character  by  his  creatures,  but  can 
always  undertake  his  own  defence;  that  as  the  prosperity  of 
the  wicked  is  not  of  long  duration,  so  neither  is  the  calamity 
of  the  righteous;  that  the  wicked  are  sometime:-;  exalted, 
only  to  make  their  fall  more  conspicuous;  that  the  righteous 
are  sometimes  depressed  and  apparently  deserted  only  to 
make  the  divine  regard  for  them  more  eminently  and  trium- 


APPENDIX.  253 

phantly  seen.  Such  are  some  of  the  principal  maxims  which 
it  appears  to  be  the  design  of  the  book  to  inculcate.  The 
whole  seems  intended  to  demonstrate  the  insufficiency  of 
human  reason,  and  the  rashness  of  men,  whether  in  attempt- 
ing to  fathom  the  depths  of  divine  Providence  in  the  govern- 
ment of  the  universe,  or  in  pronouncing  dogmatically  on  the 
causes  of  the  happiness  or  misery  of  individual  men. 

"All  this  is  effected,  not  in  a  dry,  formal,  didactic  way,  but 
by  means  of  an  animated  and  prolonged  discussion,  each 
speaker  taking  his  turn,  and  all  being  seated,  according  to  the 
manner  of  the  East.  The  whole  is  carried  on  in' a  style 
highly  figurative  and  poetical,  and  embellished  with  a  profn- 
sion  of  splendid  images.  Each  speaker,  as  is  cotnmon  in 
such  discussions,  is  represented  as  retaining  his  own  opin- 
ions. An  interlocutor  appears,  and  places  the  subject  in  a 
different  light.  He  is  interrupted  by  the  appearance  of  the 
Deity.  A  thunder-storm  is  formed  in  the  distance,  and  draws 
nearer.  A  profound  silence  reigns  throughout  nature;  at 
length  an  awful  peal  is  heard ;  the  cloud  bursts,  and  there 
proceeds  from  it  a  majestic  voice,  which,  in  a  series  of  unan- 
swerable interrogations,  makes  manifest  that  his  power  is 
irresistible  and  his  counsels  inscrutable;  that  the  first  and 
best  duty  of  his  creatures  is  unreserved  submission  to  his 
will,  and  an  entire  confidence  in  his  decisions.  The  whole  is 
calculated  to  produce  the  deepest  humility  in  man,  and  to 
lead  to  the  most  exalted  conceptions  of  God. 

"Thus  the  book  is  a  continual  and  enduring  lesson  on  the 
providence  of  the  Creator  and  our  de-;endence,  —  on  his 
power  and  our  weakness, — on  his  greatness  and  our  noth- 
ingness. 

."Besides  all  this,  the  book  has  singular  attractions,  on 
account  of  its  prodigious  antiquity,  being  by  far  the  oldest  of 
all  the  books  that  have  come  down  to  our  times,  and  includ- 
ing fragments  of  didactic  poetry  which  probably  belonged  to 
the  antediluvian  period.  It  is  also  a  kind  of  patriarchal  en- 
cyclopicdia,  as  containing  distinct,  though  brief,  traces  of 
philosophy,  morals,  and  history,  as  existing  in  these  remote 
ages.     The  reader  is  transported  into  a  distant  land,  in  times 


254 


APPENDIX. 


not  far  retnovcd  from  the  cradle  of  the  human  race;  he  finds 
himself  in  a  new  re,^ion,  amongst  men  and  manners  previ- 
ously unknown.  Everything  wear.-,  a  primitive,  simple,  and 
foreign  aspect.  7'he  countenance  of  the  people  is  grave, 
their  manner  dignified,  their  speech  oracular.  The  fire  and 
eagerness  of  the  Eastern  character  are  ready  to  burst  forth, 
but  the  calmness  and  philosophy  of  the  sage  repress  them. 
Their  religious  views  are  simple,  but  sublime:  they  knowr 
God,  and  revere  him;  and  each,  in  his  own  way,  is  indignant 
at  any  attack  made  on  the  equity  of  the  Supreme  Governor; 
but  they  know  nothing  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  or  of 
a  world  to  come.  Neither  do  they  seem  to  have  had  any 
glimpse  of  a  Redeemer,  unless  it  were  through  the  medium 
of  the  one  rite  of  sacrifice,  of  which  they  would  probably 
inquire  the  meaning,  or  they  might  learn  traditionally  the 
early  promise  of  the  victory  to  be  obtained,  at  some  future 
period,  over  the  serpent,  by  the  woman's  seed.  Of  all  this, 
however,  there  is  no  trace  in  the  book. 

"  To  those  who  have  suffered  affliction,  and  whose  tranquil- 
lity has  been  repeatedly  broken  by  painful  visitations,  this 
book  affords  inestimable  resources  in  the  way  of  consola- 
tion; and  to  those  who  are  of  a  contemplative  and  serious 
mind,  there  is  no  work  more  fit  to  make  us  feel  the  inanity 
of  all  human  things,  to  detach  our  hearts  from  present 
scenes,  and  to  direct  our  thoughts  towards  a  better  world." 

"  IT  IS  NOT  A  DRAMATIC  COMPOSITION. 

"  The  book  has  been  supposed  by  some  to  possess  a  dra- 
matic character ;  but  this  opinion  is  contradicted  by  the  style 
of  the  commencement  and  close,  which  are  undoubtedly  nar- 
rative; also  by  the  regular  intervention  of  the  historian  him- 
self at  the  beginning  of  every  speech,  to  inform  us  of  the 
name  of  the  speaker.  Besides,  there  is  no  action  in  the  work, 
and  action  is  essential  to  the  drama:  all  is  still  and  quiet, 
and  exhibits  merely  the  tenor  of  ordinary  colloquy.  Long 
discourses  of  an  argumentative  kind,  and  proverbial  sen- 
tences, constitute  the  essence  of  the  book.     There  is  a  certain 


APPENDIX.  255 

kind  of  division  and  arrangement  in  the  conferences,  but 
there  are  no  scenes,  in  the  dramatic  sense  of  that  term.  We 
have  a  meeting  of  eastern  sages,  who  dispute  about  the  order 
of  Providence,  as  exemplified  in  the  patriarch's  case;  a  sort 
of  contest  on  the  real  cause  of  God's  visitation  of  Job  ;  con- 
sequently there  is  no  drama. 

"  Neither  is  it  necessary  to  characterize  the  composition  far- 
ther than  by  saying  that,  except  its  exordium  and  its  close,  it 
is  undoubtedly  poetical  from  beginning  to  end  :  and  some 
persons,  such  as  Jerome,  go  so  far  as  to  say,  that  it  is  written 
in  hexameter  verses,  consisting  of  dactyls  and  spondees;  but 
this  is  an  assertion  difficult  to  verify,  as  we  have  long  since 
lost  the  true  pronunciation  of  the  Hebrew  language.  Jerome 
himself  acknowledges  that  other  feet  frequently  occur,  and 
that  the  measui-e  of  the  verses  often  differs  in  the  number  of 
the  syllables  of  the  several  feet.  We  consider  the  whole  of 
this  as  matter  of  conjecture. 

"As  to  the  form  of  its  composition,  consisting  of  several 
discourses,  delivered  by  different  interlocutors,  and  which  ap- 
pear too  refined  and  sublime  for  mere  extemporary  effusions, 
the  Orientals  were  well  known  to  have  been  fond  of  such  meet- 
ings, and  of  holding  long  conversations  and  reasonings,  in  ele- 
vated expressions  and  proverbial  phrases,  proposed  and  an- 
swered with  an  eloquent  facility.  We  are  not  bound  to  sup- 
pose that  these  conferences  were  held  at  one  sitting,  but  took 
place  according  to  the  feelings  and  convenience  of  the  sever- 
al speakers.  It  is  not  at  all  probable  that  the  whole  hap- 
pened without  interruption,  rest,  or  refreshment.  If  the 
friends,  during  the  first  interview,  remained  seven  days  and 
seven  nights,  without  speaking  a  word,  the  subsequent  dis- 
courses must  have  taken  place  after  certain  intervals.  Of 
these  discourses  there  are  nine  series,  each  of  which  must 
have  occupied  at  least  one  daj',  in  the  slow,  deliberate,  and 
sententious  manner  of  Eastern  conversation  and  discussion, 
which  has  more  of  the  solemn  and  oracular  form  than  is  con- 
sistent with  our  modern  flippancy  and  fluency.  Nor  would  it 
be  surprising  if  the  space  of  one  day  at  least  intervened  be- 
tween these  diftcrent  conferences,  or  even   more   than  that; 


256  APPENDIX. 

and  it  is  scarcely  to  be  thought  that  Job's  disease  would  allow 
him  to  carry  on  such  frequent  colloquies,  without  intermis- 
sions of  repose.  However  this  may  be,  there  is  a  perfect 
unity  of  design  in  the  whole  composition  ;  and  whether  viewed 
in  the  light  of  a  merely  literary  production,  an  inspired  nar- 
rative, or  a  faithful  record  of  actual  facts,  it  carries  with  it  all 
the  marks  of  a  very  remote  antiquity. 

"Still  there  are  some  parts  of  the  book  which  have  much  of 
a  dramatic  character.  The  three  friends  recite  their  parts. 
Job  replies  to  each  of  them  in  turn.  Nothing  is  decided  or 
brought  to  issue.  At  length  a  spectator  interferes,  and  cour- 
teously begs  leave  to  take  a  part,  after  the  others  had  exhaust- 
ed their  materials  of  disputation.  He  speaks  well,  but  not 
with  sufficient  authority  to  close  the  controversy.  At  last  the 
Almighty  interposes,  pronounces  sentence  on  all  parties,  and 
awards  each  his  due.  This  is  the  finale,  or  winding  up  of 
the  scene.  It  is  to  be  inferred,  too,  from  several  passages, 
that  an  audience  was  present  at  the  whole  debate,  who,  no 
doubt,  took  a  lively  interest  in  the  scene,  their  sympathies 
being  roused  or  repressed  according  to  the  convictions  pro- 
duced in  their  minds  by  the  different  speakers  in  their  turn. 

"But  though  all  this  be  true,  still,  to  call  the  poem  a  dra- 
ma, or  a  tragedy,  or  the  like,  would  be  highly  absurd,  since 
that  species  of  composition  was  utterly  unknown  in  Job's 
day,  and  was  a  modern  invention  of  the  Greeks,  who  lived 
near  the  looth  Olympiad  ;  that  is  to  say,  which  was  not  known 
till  about  four  centuries  before  the  birth  of  Jesus  Christ. 
Epigenes  or  Thespis  being  the  first  inventors  of  Tragedy,  and 
Eupohs  or  Cratinus  those  of  Comed\',  more  than  two  thou- 
sand years  after  the  computed  time  of  Job. 

"  Were  the  book  a  mere  dramatic  composition,  the  work 
of  some  unknown  poet,  it  would  not  have  been  written  as  it 
is;  for  Poetry,  like  Painting,  endeavors  to  conceal  the  de- 
fects of  its  subject,  by  throwing  some  drapery  over  thoni ; 
whereas,  here  we  have  not  only  represented  to  us  Job's 
patience,  but  his  impatience. — not  merely  his  resignation, 
but  his  miunnirs.  —  not  simply  his  faith,  but  his  despair. 
He  feels  everything  with  dccj)  sensibility  ;    lie  jiasses  rapid'y 


APPENDIX.  257 

from  one  passion  to  its  contrary;  he  is  now  irritated,  then 
calmed;  now  he  implores  pity,  then  he  demands  justice; 
he  now  addresses  God  as  a  tender  father,  then  he  com- 
plains of  him  as  a  severe  master;  he  loves  life,  and  yet  he 
sighs  for  death ;  he  smiles  on  meeting  with  a  sepulchre,  he 
shudders  on  the  brink  of  a  tomb.  His  weaknesses  are  brought 
out  fully  on  the  canvas;  and  this  is  the  supreme  beauty  of 
Holy  Writ,  in  all  its  parts,  that  there  is  no  attempt  made  to 
conceal  human  deformity,  any  more  than  to  exaggerate  it; 
the  only  anxiety  of  Scripture  being  to  do  justice  to  the  Divine 
character,  to  represent  the  great  Parent  in  endearing  aspects, 
and  to  vindicate  the  ways  of  God  to  man." 

"JOB  A  REAL  PERSON. 

"Whether  such  a  personage  as  Job  ever  existed  has  been 
made  a  matter  of  dispute  by  some;  but  the  affirmative  side 
of  the  question  appears  plain,  when  we  find  him  ranked  by 
Ezekiel  with  Noah  and  Daniel  (chap.  xiv.  14,  20),  and  re- 
ferred to,  in  the  most  explicit  manner,  by  James  (chap.  v.  11), 
who,  wishing  to  recommend  patience  by  an  example,  referred 
his  countrymen  to  this  book. 

"Besides  this,  his  country  and  his  circumstances  being  so 
particularly  described,  together  with  the  names  of  his  friends, 
and  those  of  his  family,  we  cannot  help  concluding  that  it  is 
to  be  considered  as  a  real  history.  Their  discourses,  too,  are 
distinctly  set  down,  and  are  specially  directed  to  the  condition 
in  which  he  was  placed. 

"  Nor  would  the  example  of  2i  fictitious  character  carry  with 
it  half  the  weight  in  inculcating  the  virtue  of  patience,  or  any 
other  virtue,  as  that  of  a  real  sufterer,  distinguished  by  the 
magnanimous  feeling  and  elevated  understanding  which  are 
here  attributed  to  Job.  Viewing  him  as  a  person  who  once 
actually  existed,  this  book  is  exactly  the  memorial  which  he 
himself  wished  for;  a  memorial  more  permanent  than  any 
that  could  be  engraved  in  brass,  or  carved  on  a  rock.  The 
memorial  is  interwoven  with  the  sacred  canon,  and  has  been, 
and  will  be,  handed  down  to  all  generations  who  are  made 
acquainted  with  the  law  of  God. 

17 


258  APPENDIX. 

"If  the  silence  of  other  sacred  writers  respecting  Job  be 
remarked,  let  it  first  be  inquired,  whether  they  knew  anything 
of  his  history,  and  whether  they  were  under  any  obligation 
to  mention  it. 

"The  history  of  Job  is  too  circumstantial  to  be  a  mere 
fiction.  Not  only  is  his  name  given,  and  the  place  of  his 
abode,  but  his  dispositions,  his  integrity,  his  faith,  his  pa- 
tience, his  dignity,  his  fortitude,  are  all  distinctly  exempli- 
fied. Even  his  failings  are  enumerated,  and  his  murmurs  as 
carefully  recorded  as  his  thanksgivings.  We  have  also  the 
names  and  lineage  of  his  friends,  the  numbers  of  his  chil- 
dren, the  names  of  his  latest  daughters,  the  age  which  he 
arrived  at,  —  all  of  them  bearing  marks  of  a  real  and  verita- 
ble histor}"^  rather  than  of  a  fictitious  narrative.  Arabian 
writers,  too,  and  the  Koran  in  particular,  always  make  men- 
tion of  Job  as  a  real  person,  whose  descendants  were  consid- 
ered as  remaining  among  them  at  a  late  period;  and  his 
grave  is  shown  in  the  East  at  this  day.  That  it  is  shown  in 
six  different  places,  just  as  seven  cities  contended  for  the 
honor  of  being  viewed  as  the  birthplace  of  Homer,  does  not 
invalidate,  but  confirm,  the  fact  of  his  existence.  The  most 
celebrated  tomb  is  that  of  the  Trachonites,  towards  the 
springs  of  Jordan.  It  is  situated  between  the  cities  still 
bearing  the  names  of  Teman,  Shuah,  and  Naama.  There  is 
another  tomb  publicly  shown  for  that  of  the  patriarch,  in 
Armenia;  and  a  third  near  the  walls  of  Constantinople; 
which  last  more  probably  belonged  to  an  Arabian  warrior  of 
the  same  name,  who  fell  at  the  siege  of  that  city,  in  672." 


"THE  MORALITY  OF  JOB. 

"The  severe  charges  against  his  character,  either  directly 
or  by  marked  insinuation,  made  by  Job's  professed  friends,  in 
the  course  of  their  dialogues  with  him,  obliged  the  holy  patri- 
arch to  enter  into  a  vindication  of  himself,  and  to  appeal  to 
liis  former  conduct  during  the  season  of  his  prosperity.  From 
this  vindication  we  learn  what  his  moral  principles  were, 
and  they  appear  Icbs  to  resemble  those  involved   in  the  code 


APPENDIX.  259 

of  laws  given  to  Moses,  than  those  promulgated  in  the  Ser- 
mon on  the  Mount  by  Jesus  Christ.  The  Decalogue  says, 
*  Thou  shalt  not  commit  adulter}'-;  '  in  which  form  of  expres- 
sion we  recognize  a  prohibition  of  the  actual  crime,  but  no 
reference  to  the  inward  sentiment.  In  the  law  of  Christ,  not 
only  is  the  actual  crime  forbidden,  but  the  unchaste  desire  of 
the  mind,  which  is  the  embryo  of  the  overt  act.  (Matt.  v.  28.) 
In  exact  conformity  to  which,  we  find  the  patriarch  saying, 
chap.  xxxi.  i,  — 

'  I  made  a  covenant  with  mine  eyes, 
That  I  would  not  ^aze  upon  a  virgin. 
For  what  portion  should  I  then  have  in  God, 
Or  what  inheritance  of  the  Almighty  from  on  high?' 

And  this  he  grounds  upon  two  considerations  —  the  conse- 
quences of  transgression,  and  the  omniscience  of  God  :  — 

'  Doth  not  destruction  follow  the  wicked. 
And  shame  pursue  the  workers  of  iniquity.'*  — 
Doth  not  the  Eternal  see  my  ways. 
And  number  all  my  footsteps.?' 

He  goeth  farther  than  this,  and  not  merely  disclaims  all 
mental  impurity  which  might  be  excited  by  the  contempla- 
tion of  virgin  beauty,  but  denies  that  still  baser  feeling  which 
might  prompt  to  the  destruction  of  another's  conjugal  hap- 
piness :  — 

'  If  my  heart  hath  been  enticed  to  a  married  ivomaji, 
Or  I  have  lain  in  wait  at  my  neighbor's  door, 
Then  let  my  wife  gratify  another. 
And  let  others  bow  down  upon  her; 
For  this  is  i/ie  basest  ■wickedness, 
And  a  crime  to  be  punished  by  the  Judge  ; 
It  is  a  fire  consuming  to  destruction ; 
It  would  root  out  all  mine  increase.' 

**  Such  are  the  noble  sentiments  of  Job  in  regard  to  this  part 
of  the  Divine  Law —  sentiments  that  would  do  honor  to  any 


26o  APPENDIX. 

era  of  the  world,  and  in  entire  congeniality  with  the  gospel 
of  Christ. 

"  Overwhelmed  by  accumulated  calamities  as  Job  was, 
and  therefore  strongly  tempted  to  abridge  his  own  existence 
by  violent  means,  we  find  him  not  merely  revolting  from 
this  impious  practice,  but  calmly  professing  his  determina- 
tion to  abide  the  issue  :  — 

'  All  the  daj'S  of  my  appointed  time 
I  will  wait,  till  my  release  shall  come.' 

'*  This  thorough  confidence  in  God,  as  one  who  does  not 
afflict  willingly,  nor  grieve  the  children  of  men,  is  in  striking 
contrast  to  the  conduct  of  those,  who,  whenever  their  pros- 
pects are  clouded,  rush  to  self-destruction  as  a  relief:  — 

*When  all  the  blandishments  of  life  are  gone, 
The  sinner  creeps  to  death  —  the  saint  lives  on.' 

"  The  examples  of  Achitophel  and  Judas  are  quite  sufficient, 
were  there  no  other  reasons  for  deterring,  to  bring  this  dread- 
ful crime  into  utter  disrepute. 

*' The  worship  of  the  One  True  God,  to  the  exclusion  of 
all  false  deities,  is  plainly  an  article  in  the  patriarch's  creed. 
Sabaism,  or  the  adoration  of  the  celestial  luminaries,  was 
probably  the  only  species  of  idolatry  existing  in  Job's  time; 
and  for  aught  we  know,  had  become  prevalent  in  his  and  in 
the  neighboring  countries.  But  how  indignantly  does  he 
renounce  every  departure  of  this  kind  from  the  allegiance  he 
owed  to  Jehovah,  when  he  says,  — 

'  If  I  have  looked  with  a  superstitious  eye 
At  the  sun,  when  he  shone  in  his  strength, 
Or  the  moon,  when  she  walked  in  her  brightness, 
And  my  heart  hath  been  secretly  enticed. 
And  I  have  worshipped  by  carrying  my  hand  to  niv  mouth, 
I  should  have  been  chargeable  with  a  great  trunsgresbion, 
For  1  should  have  denied  the  Supreme  God.' 

'•An   abhorrence  of  deceit  is   also  a   feature  in  the  moral 


APPENDIX.  261 

character  of  Job.  Any  attempt  to  overreach  his  neighbor,  or 
even  to  covet  what  belonged  to  him,  still  more  to  accept  a 
bribe  as  an  inducement  to  perpetrate  injustice,  he  pronounces 
to  be  far  from  his  thoughts.     He  sajs,  — 

'If  I  have  acted  fraudulently, 
And  xwy  foot  hath  hastened  to  dishonesty, 
Let  me  be  weighed  in  a  just  balance, 
That  God  may  know  mine  integrity. 
If  my  step  hath  turned  from  the  right  vi^ay, 
And  my  heart  hath  gone  after  mine  eyes; 
If  any  bribe  hath  cleaved  to  my  hands, 
Then  may  I  sow  and  another  eat; 
Let  another  root  out  what  I  have  planted.' 

**  A  man's  soundness  of  principle  may  safely  be  judged  of 
by  his  conduct  towards  the  members  of  his  own  family,  and 
especially  towards  his  domestic  servants.  In  this  point  of 
view  Job's  character  stands  very  high,  since  he  professes 
before  God,  as  well  as  before  man,  a  conscientious  regard  to 
his  dependants,  and  a  determination  to  treat  them  equitably. 

'  If  I  denied  justice  to  my  man-servant, 
Or  to  my  maid-servant,  when  they  disputed  with  me, 
What  then  should  I  do,  when  God  maketh  inquest.? 
"When  He  inquires,  what  answer  should  I  give.'' 
Did  not  He  who  formed  me  form  them.? 
Were  we  not  fashioned  alike  in  the  womb.?' 

*'  In  ancient  times,  slaves  had  no  action  at  law  against  their 
owners;  they  might  dispose  of  them  as  they  did  of  their 
cattle,  or  any  other  property.  The  slave  might  complain, 
and  the  owner  might  hear  him1f  he  pleased,  but  he  was  not 
compelled  to  do  so.  Job  states  that  he  had  admitted  his  ser- 
vants to  all  civil  rights;  and,  far  from  preventing  their  case 
from  being  heard,  he  was  ready  to  permit  them  to  complain 
even  against  himself,  if  they  had  a  cause  of  complaint,  and 
to  give  them  all  the  benefit  of  the  law. 

"  Strict  equity  in  dealing,  though  in  itself  laudable,  is  in- 


262  APPENDIX. 

sufficient  to  constitute  a  man  truly  amiable  in  the  eyes  of  his 
fellow-men,  unless  it  be  accompanied  by  frequent  acts  of 
benevolence  and  charity;  proving  that,  though  justice  be 
the  rule  of  his  conduct,  compassion  and  generosity  dwell 
with  it  in  the  same  bosom,  and  are  readily  exercised  when 
occasion  calls.  This  Job  protests  to  be  a  part  of  his  own  dis- 
position :  — 

*  If  I  withheld  from  the  poor  what  they  asked, 
Or  have  grieved  the  eyes  of  the  widow, 
Or  have  eaten  my  morsel  alone, 
And  the  orphan  hath  not  partaken  with  me; 
If  from  my  youth  I  did  not  nourish  them  as  a  father; 
If  from  my  earliest  years  I  was  not  the  widow's  guide  ; 
If  I  have  seen  any  perish  for  want  of  clothing, 
Or  any  poor  man  without  raiment.' 

"  Pursuing  an  open  and  ingenuous  course,  with  a  con- 
science unsullied,  and  a  countenance  unabashed,  Job  attempt- 
ed nothing  like  concealment  of  what  was  passing  within  his 
mind.  He  had  nothing  to  hide,  nothing  to  palliate.  He 
was  a  living,  walking,  acting  model  of  integrity,  formed 
upon  the  reverential  fear  of  God,  and  a  scrupulous  regard  to 
his  commandments.  He  offers  to  subject  himself  to  any  in- 
famy or  punishment,  if  his  fellow-men  could  discover  in  him 
any  delinquency. 

'If,   human-like,  I  concealed  my  sin, 
And  hid  my  transgression  in  my  bosom; 
Let  me  be  confounded  before  the  multitude; 
Let  me  be  covered  with  public  contempt; 
Let  me  be  dumb,  nor  dare  to  go  abroad.' 

•'  He  is  so  entirely  confident  of  the  purity  and  uprightness 
of  his  conduct  and  motives,  that  he  proposes,  in  language  of 
astonishing  boldness  and  grandeur,  to  meet  the  scanning  eye 
of  the  All-seeing  himself,  and  lay  his  soul  open  to  his  dread 
inspection.  There  is  neither  pride  nor  arrogance,  presump- 
tion nor  vain-glory,  in  thus  demeaning  himself.     Self-vindi- 


APPENDIX.  263 

cation  rendered  it  necessary,  as  regarded  his  fellow-men ; 
and,  as  regards  God,  it  is  only  the  language  of  an  undaunted 
child  of  God  appealing  to  his  Father  for  the  sincerity  of  his 
affection;  an  appeal,  we  may  presume,  more  pleasing  than 
offensive  to  the  Most  High. 

'  O  that  God  would  deign  to  hear  me ! 
This  is  my  declaration  :  let  the  Almighty  reply  to  it; 
Let  my  opponent  write  down  the  charge  : 
Surely  I  would  wear  it  on  my  shoulder; 
I  would  bind  it  round  me  like  a  diadem; 
I  would  disclose  to  him  the  number  of  my  steps; 
I  would  approach  him  with  the  boldness  of  a  prince.' 

"But  without  further  comment,  we  may  here  give  a  sum- 
mary of  the  other  branches  of  morality  to  which  this  holy 
man  gave  due  observance,  as  we  collect  them  from  his  own 
protestations. 

"  So  far  was  he  from  neglecting  the  cause  of  the  poor,  and 
thereby  incurring  their  imprecations,  that  he  had  gained 
their  deepest  reverence  and  attachment,  as  their  uniform  and 
steadfast  benefactor. 

'  When  the  ear  heard  me,  then  it  blessed  me; 
When  the  eye  saw  me,  it  gave  signs  of  approbation. 
The  blessing  of  him  who  was  perishing  came  upon  me, 
And  I  caused  the  widow's  heart  to  sing  for  joy.' 

"  In  his  capacity  as  judge,  he  discharged  his  office  with  un- 
deviating  rectitude,  and  his  decisions  were  fully  approved  of. 

'I  put  on  equity,  and  clothed  mj^selfwith  it; 
My  justice  was  as  a  robe  and  a  diadem. 
I  was  eyes  to  the  blind ; 
I  was  feet  to  the  lame ; 
I  was  a  father  to  the  destitute ; 
And  I  inquired  carefully  into  the  cause  of  the  stranger.' 

*'  He  was  the  friend,  the  protector,  and  adviser  of  the 
widow  and  the  orphan.     Chap.  xxxi.  16,  17. 


264  APPENDIX. 

"  He  would  not  defraud  of  their  wages  the  laborers  who 
cultivated  his  land.     Chap.  xxxi.  39. 

"  He  exercised  in  its  fullest  extent  the  virtue  of  hospitality. 

'The  stranger  lodged  not  in  the  street; 
Wy  door  was  open  to  every  comer.' 

The  consequence  of  all  which  conduct  was,  that  he  was 
received  with  reverence,  affection,  and  gratitude  wherever 
he  went;  no  one  presuming  to  speak  till  he  had  done,  to  add 
to  what  he  said,  or  to  suggest  anything  as  being  preferable 
or  wiser.  They  listened  patiently  to  his  counsels,  they  grate- 
fully followed  his  advice. 

'  To  me  men  gave  ear  and  attended ; 
They  were  silent  at  my  admonition. 
After  I  had  spoken  they  replied  not; 
For  my  reasons  dropped  on  them  as  dew: 
They  waited  for  me  as  for  a  spring-shower; 
They  opened  wide  their  mouths,  as  for  the  harvest-rain.' 

"  The  young  shrank  back  from  the  presence  of  their  emir 
through  modesty ;  the  aged  rose  to  meet  him  from  respect. 
Confident  of  all  this,  Job  at  one  time  expected  to  die  as  he 
had  lived,  in  calmness  and  prosperity,  reaping  the  fruits  of 
his  piety  and  rectitude,  and  seeing  his  posterity  enjoy  the 
advantage  of  their  progenitor's  exalted  reputation. 

'Then  I  said,  I  shall  die  in  my  nest; 
I  shall  multiply  my  days  as  the  palm-tree; 
My  root  shall  spread  out  to  the  waters; 
Tlie  dew  of  night  shall  repose  on  my  branches; 
My  glory  shall  be  unfading  around  me. 
And  my  bow  continue  fresh  in  my  hand.'  " 


